Daughter of the Autobots
by Blatherskite3
Summary: Life has a funny way of working out sometimes. -G1- Adopted from CherryBlossom713.
1. New Faces

Disclaimer: I don't own, ok?

Rating: T

Warnings: OC, OOC(hopefully not too much, but I kinda suck ^^;)

Universe: Transformers Generation One

Adopted from _CherryBlossom713_!

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><p><span>Chapter One: New Faces<span>

"Mother!" Mila called, waking up from her nightmare with sweat running down her forehead. A glance over at the alarm clock revealed it to be 5:00am. The blood red numbers illuminated the dark room faintly.

Blood. The shiver that went down Mila's spine was uncontrollable; a nightmare still fresh in her mind. Sitting in a pool of blood, her mother's face is pale and cold, her green eyes having the look of glass to them.

A shake of the head to attempt to clear it. Hopping up out of her bed, Mila strode over to the dresser in the corner of the room to grab the clothes she had put out the night before. A striped pink and white long sleeved shirt, skinny jeans and black and white converse. Mila's social worker told her to wear something bright and cheerful, so her new, maybe permanent family will find her to be cute and likeable.

Ironic the foster care system broadcasts that they completely accept every child, but behind closed doors they tell you that if you don't act a certain way you won't be chosen. But then again, there's really only a one in a million chance of a family adopting you. And that's when your four and under, and even you _breathing_ is cute.

Mila finished tying her shoes and stood up to look at herself in the mirror. Her wild, wavy dark brown hair was really messy. With a small sigh, Mila grabbed her black hairbrush and started on the tangles.

"Mila!" came the impatient voice of her soon to be ex-foster mother, Veronica.

'_Well at least there is one good thing about being placed with this new family. I get away from Veronica and her daughters Tiffany and Tammy.' _Mila mused to herself.

Grabbing her shoulder backpack, that contains everything in this universe I can call my own, Mila dashed down the stairs to make the witch, her dragons and herself some breakfast before the social worker came.

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><p>"You'll love your new family, and they'll love you just as much!" said Kathy, Mila's social worker. With adding, nerve grating peppiness.<p>

"How can they love if their robots?" Mila snapped. Because really, how could you _not_ freak out about being taken in by some lonely aliens? It didn't help that her nightmare earlier had left her in a bad mood.

Mila heard Kathy sigh before falling quiet and turning her full focus on the road. Which was fine by her, she didn't feel like talking anyway.

Looking out her window, Mila watched the trees go by in a slight blur. Somehow, she knew that her life would never be the same after she met her new "family".

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><p>"So what's this kid's story?" asked Kup.<p>

"Well she has been in foster care sense she was four. Ten years ago her mother was murdered." answered Optimus. The Autobot leader was feeling pity for the young girl once again.

"The father?" Prowl spoke up. The tactician was confused as to why the girl's father wouldn't have taken care of her, instead of putting her in foster care.

"He is unknown."

All the Autobots stood up a little straighter when they saw the social worker, Ms. Kathy Green's, silver Mercedes coming into view.

When the car finally pulled up at the Autobot's feet, a young girl of about ten years with dark brown hair and brown eyes hopped out. She was sort of delicate looking, but that also could have been the fact that she was organic.

The girl looked at them for a minute before reaching into the car and pulling out an old and worn brown shoulder bag. By then Kathy had already gotten her brief case and was walking towards Optimus. The girl followed suit with a frown that looked unnatural on her face.

Looking back at the girl, Kathy let out a barely audible sigh of annoyance. "I'm sorry about Mila. She's just a little down today."

"It's perfectly okay." Optimus said, while trying to look Mila in the eyes. But she absolutely refused to take her gaze off her black and white shoes.

Rodimus saw this and thought that she was just shy and scared. "Hello Mila, I'm Rodimus." He held out his finger and gave the girl a crooked smile. Mila looked up at him and stared into his azure optics as if try to see if it was some cruel joke. After a minute of looking at Rodimus she shook his finger.

"Rodimus, perhaps you and some of the others could show Mila around." Optimus suggested pointedly.

With a nod, Rodimus offered his hand to the girl. After a minute of an internal war_(He's going to drop me!)_, Mila climbed onto his hand slowly. Rodimus straightened, starting off to begin the tour.

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><p>When Mila and Rodimus were out of hearing range, Kathy spoke. "Everything looks in order. I just have to warn you about somethings you might have to deal with." The social worker leafed through a large manilla folder.<p>

Prowl eyed the folder with unease. "Her folder is quiet big for someone so young. Has she been in trouble with the law?" After all, if this girl was a trouble maker they had to know.

"No. Mila just been in a lot of foster homes." Kathy continued to search through Mila's folder for something.

"If I may, why?" Optimus inquired.

"Because her nightmares often wake and keep her up. And no one really wanted to deal with a child like that. She usually changes foster homes every three months." Kathy finally looked up for the first time since opening Mila's folder. Her eyes showed pity for young girl, the one she had been assigned to find a home for.

The Autobots now understood why the young girl was acting the way she was. It showed on their faces, and Kathy noted this in her mind. Hope swelled in her chest that this would be the family that would adopt Mila.

"Along with the nightmares, I would like you to keep an eye on her eating habits. Mila is slightly anorexic, so make sure she is eating. If you can, I would like for you guys to sign her up for a drawing class because that seems to help her." Kathy closed Mila's folder and put it back in her black briefcase.

"It shall be done. Thank you, Ms. Green," Optimus said politely.

"Don't be so formal. Call me Kathy!"

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><p>Meanwhile, during her tour, Mila was only half present. She was in deep thought, and they weren't good thoughts. Bitterness tainted them, like a bad aftertaste.<p>

_'Kathy had left me thinking that this was safe. That I was safe. And physically I am safe. But mentally...'_ Mila gave a small sigh. _'My thoughts attack me. They fly at me like Decepticon Seekers, torturing and betraying. The Autobots were supposed to be good. They were supposed to be the ones everyone could count on to have their back. But they back stabbed her, they back stabbed my mother. The two 'Bots she had trusted the most, who were her best friends. The 'Bots they want me to start to trust, to consider my friends._

_But I know the truth. And they will never get the chance to hurt me, like they did my mother.'_

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><p><span>End notes:<span> This chapter was just a revised version of CherryBlossom713's story. The next will be the start of my own installments.

_**Review, please!**_


	2. Further Introductions

Chapter warnings: Lots of talking  
><span>Note:<span> I'm changing Rodimus back to Hot Rod, because Rodimus and Optimus can't exist at the same time. It's also set before the movie, but some characters probably don't fit in then. Whatever.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Further Introductions<strong>

Hot Rod stopped outside the break room. Mila surveyed the inside from his hand. There were very large chairs, that appeared to be made out of Cybertronian metal, positioned around the room. Some were around a clearly Cybertronian_(by it's gigantic size)_ table. Others were just scattered around.

It was the same color as the rest of the ship- a bright orange color. What possessed them to paint their ship such a_ hideous _color, Mila didn't know.

The room wasn't empty of life, either. Mila observed three mechs sitting around the table. All of them were rather short, by Autobot standards. One was yellow, another red, and the last black and white with a blue visor.

Hot Rod gave Mila a quick, reassuring smile before heading over to the other three Autobots. "Hey, guys!" he greeted cheerfully.

The black and white mech looked up and beamed. "Hey, Roddy my mech!"

The red one spotted Mila in Hot Rod's hand. "Who's the human?" his tone was laced with suspicion.

Mila was slightly offended by the terminology. "My name is Mila!"

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Mila!" the yellow one smiled in a friendly way.

"How about you tell her your names?" Hot Rod suggested pointedly.

"'M Jazz! Music expert an' saboteur!" the black and white mech proclaimed.

The red one rolled his optics at Jazz's enthusiasm. "I'm Cliffjumper."

Mila had a feeling that Cliffjumper had an attitude problem.

Cliffjumper's yellow counterpart gave him an annoyed look, before turning to Mila. "You'll have to excuse him, he's a little paranoid," the mech smiled again. "I'm Bumblebee."

Mila repeated those three names to herself._ 'Bumblebee, Cliffjumper and Jazz. Okay, I can remember that... hopefully.'_

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><p>Outside the red and orange ship, Kathy stood in front of Optimus and Prowl. Kup had wandered off, muttering something about needing a stasis nap if he was going to deal with a kid.<p>

"So, Miss Green, is there anything else?" Prowl took charge.

Kathy smiled. "Yep! Mila's going to be staying with you for a few days!"

While Kathy was blatantly enthusiastic about that fact, Optimus and Prowl were more wary.

"Not to be disrespectful, but are you sure that's wise?" Optimus asked.

"Absolutely! I'm sure you'll have no problems!"

Kathy's smile didn't fade, even as Optimus and Prowl exchanged glances. Somehow, both Autobots knew that 'no problems' was far from what would really happen.

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><p>Hot Rod and Mila had drifted from the break room. Mila hadn't really seemed to apt to talk with Jazz, Bumblebee and Cliffjumper, so there hadn't been a real point in sticking around. Instead, Hot Rod opted to show his possible future adopted daughter around further.<p>

In the middle of the hallway, Hot Rod stopped. He looked down at her. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care."

Hot Rod shuttered his optics in a blink. "Ok..."

So she didn't care. That left about two or three logical choices. 'Logical' meaning that there would be someone else in the room for her to meet.

Hot Rod opted for the closest place. Starting off at a leisurely pace, he gave Mila a smile. The young girl simply stared back, determined to keep her distance.

As the duo passed the wash racks_(really just huge showers that spew cleaning solvent instead of water)_, two mechs walked out. They both shone with a fresh wax, but the yellow one looked more proud of his paint than his red counterpart.

Hot Rod smiled. "Mila, I'd like you to meet the twins!" he proclaimed.

"Twins?" Mila echoed. _'Robots can have twins?'_

The red one grinned. "That's right, little lady! I'm Sideswipe, chief prankster."

"Shut up," the yellow one cuffed his brother upside the head, before turning to Mila. "I'm Sunstreaker, the most handsome mech on base."

Mila raised an eyebrow. _'Well he's... vain...'_

Hot Rod rolled his optics. "Yeah, yeah." In an undertone, he added "Narcissist."

"Why you-!" Sunstreaker started forward in a rage. As Sideswipe grabbed his enraged twin, Hot Rod took a step back.

Mila stared. _'A vain robot with anger issues. I don't know whether to be scared or amused.'_

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><p>Deciding it was safer to stay away from Sunstreaker for a while, Hot Rod and Mila continued on their journey. They had come to a stop outside an open door. The inside was the same color as the rest of the ship, and had some interesting decorations. Construction tools and Cybertronian... things... hung on hooks. Large metal tables sat in the far corner of the room.<p>

"If that's you, twins, I'm going to rip you both a new afterburner!" a voice bellowed from an adjoining room.

Mila jumped slightly. That sounded like it would hurt.

Hot Rod looked totally unaffected, however. "Nah, it's Hot Rod! I want you to meet someone!" he bellowed back. There were a few muffled words of annoyance, before the door swung open.

The red and white mech stood proudly. Mila idly wondered what the gray V-shaped thing on his head was for. Decoration, maybe?

"Ratchet, this is Mila!" Hot Rod thrust his hand out.

Ratchet's hard glare softened a bit. "Hello, Mila. My name is Ratchet, I am the Autobot's medic."

Mila waved a hand, unsure as to what to say. Doctors had always made her nervous.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Ratchet straightened up. "I have things to attend to."

Hot Rod took the que to leave, wanting to avoid any conflict with Mila in the room. She was, after all, so alarmingly fragile.

As they made their way through the hallway, Mila reflected on those she had met. And those she had yet to meet.

_'This is going to be crazy, isn't it? Sort of like living with a bunch of huge siblings? Well, at least I won't be bored...'_

Nor would she trust them so easily.

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><p><span>End notes:<span> I'm desperate for reviews! Come on, please!

_**Review, please!**_

_**I'll be your friend!**_


	3. New Room, New Life

Review response: _Ishgirl_, Mila's family has been mapped out. But something similar to what you requested will show up in later chapters. Thanks for the review!

Chapter warnings: Turning point in a life, oblivious mechs

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: New Room, New Life<strong>

After meeting Ratchet, Mila was requested outside. So Hot Rod, being the obedient mech, brought her there. By that time, it was late in the day. The sun was going to start setting very soon, you could see it in the way the sky tinged light yellow.

Kathy handed Mila a piece of paper. It had her name and phone number on it. "Don't hesitate to call me, for whatever you need."

Mila gave a small smile back. She put the paper in her pocket, but didn't think she'd be calling Kathy anytime soon. "See you in a few days," Mila said politely.

Kathy nodded once, and climbed into her silver Mercedes. The door slammed closed, and the engine started not long after. Kathy stuck her head out the driver's side window and waved

Mila waved back dispassionately. Once Kathy's car vanished from view, Mila knew she was on her own.

"Mila, it is time for your nightly fuel consumption," Prowl broke the silence.

Mila stared up at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"Dinner." Hot Rod explained simply.

Recognition lit up in Mila's eyes. "Oh. I'm not... really hungry..." she lied. In truth, she was starving.

The Autobots exchanged glances. They could detect the change in her heart rate and pheromones when she lied. Plus, they can scan her energy levels. Mila's energy levels were low, and she was showing all the signs of lying.

"Mila, I know you _are_ hungry. We have gathered human... food... for you to... eat." Optimus clearly struggled with the human terminology.

Mila would have laughed if the situation was going her way. Instead, she simply sighed. "Okay..."

Prowl gave a curt nod. "Good. Come along, young one."

Mila blinked as Prowl started walking off. She then started running after the police car, who was going at a slow pace.

Optimus and Hot Rod exchanged knowing glances. If anyone could get Mila to eat, even if just a cracker, it would be the stony tactician.

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><p>Mila gasped for breath when they finally stopped. She had chased Prowl through half of the ship, in a fast jog the whole way.<p>

"This cabinet holds the healthy food," Prowl pointed.

It was just barely within Mila's reach on her tippy toes. The girl stretched onto said tippy toes, opening the gray cabinet. Peering inside, she spotted things like instant rice, soup and pasta. The non-perishables.

Mila glanced up at Prowl. "You got any pots and pans? Or a stove?"

"A what or a what?"

Mila died a little inside at Prowl's clueless response. "This food needs to be cooked. You cook food in pots and pans, on a stove. Microwaves are helpful, too. And for cold and frozen foods, those are healthy, you need a refrigerator and a freezer. All of this runs on electricity, too." she explained.

"Hm. I... see. We will acquire those items tomorrow. You will have to have something else tonight."

"Like what?"

Prowl looked pensive. Before his optics brightened. "How about some 'cereal'?" he suggested.

"Ok. Where is it?"

Prowl pointed to a cabinet that Mila could reach without stretching. She opened it, spying whole grain cereal only. Nothing sugary. Darn.

Knowing she couldn't get out of this, no matter how much she didn't want to eat, Mila grabbed a box, closing the door. A thought struck her. "Do you have silverware and plates?"

"Yes," Prowl pointed to the cabinets on the other side of the room.

Mila put the cereal box down, heading to the cabinets. She opened it, revealing plain white bowls and boring silver utensils. With a small sigh, Mila grabbed a spoon and a bowl. She closed the cabinet door, grabbed the cereal, and sat at the table. It was about the size of a small child's play table, with a chair to match. She placed her bag next to her chair, tired of carrying it around.

Pouring herself a bowl of the bland cereal, Mila ignored Prowl's stare. She had no doubt that Kathy had told them about her anorexia. Mila stuck the spoon in the bowl, and lifted it to her mouth, and repeated the process. All the while under Prowl's scrutiny.

Once Mila finished her meal, she was met with another problem. "Do you have a sink?" she questioned.

"In the lavatory, yes."

Mila resisted the urge to smack her forehead. She had no clue what a lavatory was, but she knew it wasn't here. "I need one in here, the kitchen. So I can wash the dishes and stuff when I'm done."

Prowl nodded. "I will address the problem."

"Ok. I'll leave it here for tonight, then."

Mila stood up, putting the cereal away. Once she closed the cabinet door, she looked up at Prowl. "Now what?"

"It is late. You should re- sleep."

Mila picked up her bag. "Fine. Show me to my room?"

Prowl waved his hand in a 'follow me' motion, before starting off. Once again, Mila was forced to jog after him. She needed longer legs...

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><p>Prowl stopped outside a dull gray door. It seemed everything in the Autobot's ship was either gray or orange, Mila noted. If she stayed, she would have to fix that.<p>

"Go on," Prowl urged when she didn't move.

Mila snapped out of her color-centered thoughts, grabbed the doorknob that had obviously been installed just for her, and pushed. The door swung open, revealing a bland and bare room.

It was orange in color, which didn't surprise Mila at all. There was an oak dresser against the wall to her right, an oak desk against the wall across from her and a simple twin bed with a metal frame against the left wall. The bed had a simple blue sheet and pillowcase set. Beside the bed was an oak nightstand, complete with a pale peach lamp.

"The lavatory is through that door," Prowl pointed. Mila saw the outline of a bathroom. Oh, so that's what a lavatory was.

Mila put down her bag on the bed. She looked at Prowl. "Thanks."

Prowl didn't miss the dismissal. "You will be woken at 6 am sharp. Rest well," he left the room.

Mila walked over and closed the door he had left open. She then opened her bag, grabbing her favorite pajamas. A pair of green pants with gray stripes and a green t-shirt. She headed into the bathroom and changed. When she finished, Mila noticed she had actual shampoo and body wash. Thank God.

Walking out of the bathroom and turning the light off, Mila sighed. She turned on the bedside lamp, and turned off the overhead light. She reached into her bag, pulling out her most prized possession. A faded and worn teddy bear, dressed in an equally faded and worn black shirt that had a heart on it. Her mother had given it to her before she died. Mila had named it Amico, or "friend" in Italian, her second nationality, next to being Polish.

Mila put the bag on the floor, turned off the lamp, and climbed into bed. In the darkness of the room, she reflected on the day.

As she closed her eyes, a tear fell from them. Because in Mila's world, when you got a new room, you got a new home, a new family and a new life.

And she didn't think she could lose another life.

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><p><span>End notes:<span> What did you think? Ended kinda sadly, and it will be kinda sad. But it will have lighter things, like how they forgot the fridge and stuff ;)

_**Reviews, please!**_

_**I am so low on them :(**_


	4. Medical Expertise

**Chapter Four: Medical Expertise**

Mila woke the next day to an insistent knocking on her door. She blinked slowly, looking around the unfamiliar room. Finally her mind caught up with her, making her remember where she was. Oh, right. Prowl was giving her a wake-up call.

"I'm up! I'll be out in a minute!" Mila called.

There was a slight pause. "Very well." Prowl's muffled reply came.

Mila climbed out of the warmth of her bed with a small sigh. She stretched her arms over her head while arching her back forward. Once she heard her back pop, she headed to her bag. She pulled out today's clothes; a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt.

Mila carried the clothes with her into the bathroom. After a few minutes she emerged, full dressed. She quickly made her bed, a force of habit. Mila hugged Amico for a second before putting him in her bag for safe keeping.

She slipped on her shoes, gave the room a once over and nodded in satisfaction. She opened the door to reveal Prowl standing there patiently.

Mila frowned. "Have you been there the whole time?"

"Yes."

Mila wasn't sure what to make of that, so she simply let it go. "So, now what?" she inquired.

"It's time for... breakfast."

The amusement from Prowl's struggle with human terms was drowned out by the fact that she was being forced to eat. Nonetheless, Mila nodded her agreement.

Besides, she was still afraid to argue with a giant alien robot who could squash her like a bug.

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><p>After a breakfast of the same cereal she ate for dinner, Mila looked at her unofficial<em>(or maybe it was official, Mila didn't know)<em> guard. "So what's on the list for today?"

"Come with me," Prowl started off. Mila was left to sprint after him.

They stopped outside the break room. Prowl looked down at the panting human. "I won't follow you around, Mila. But keep in mind that I am putting quite a bit of trust in you."

Mila wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she simply nodded.

Prowl gave a small nod, before turning and walking away. Mila watched him go, suddenly feeling nervous. She turned to the break room, took a deep breath, and walked inside.

The first thing Mila noticed was that there was only a few Autobots inside. They consisted of Ratchet, a red mech she had never seen before, Jazz and Sunstreaker.

Jazz was the first one to spot her. "Hey, Mila!" he grinned. Sunstreaker looked down at her, nodded once in recognition, and went back to his energon.

Ratchet gave her a small smile. "Don't mind him. He's not really a... people person."

Jazz howled with laughter, Sunstreaker scowled, the red mech cracked a small grin and Mila smiled. It was nice to interact, although she didn't want to get too close to them.

"I'm Ironhide, by the way." the red mech finally introduced himself.

Mila noted that he had a southern drawl to his voice. It was odd, considering they're not from Earth. "Nice to meet you," she responded politely.

Ratchet's sudden sigh broke the slightly awkward silence. "I had better get back to the medbay. Always someone who needs a tune-up." there was a pointed glare at Sunstreaker, who shifted uneasily.

Ratchet stood from his chair, leaving the room. Mila, in a split-second decision, decided to follow him.

* * *

><p>Mila stood in the doorway of the medbay uncertainly. She wasn't sure if Ratchet would allow her in or not. If he would be mad or not.<p>

Because Ratchet was a giant compared to her, a giant that could do serious harm to her organic self if angry.

"Are you going to stand there all day or come in?" Ratchet spoke without turning around. Mila jumped in surprise.

Mila walked inside, stopping in the middle of the room. She looked around at the various tools. One, however, caught her eye.

"Is that a giant wrench?" she blurted without thinking.

Ratchet chuckled. "It is. Wrenches are useful tools. We had something like them back on Cybertron, except they were sharper."

Mila, for some reason beyond her comprehension, wasn't bored. Maybe it's because she's always liked to build things. She's not very good, but hey. Fun is fun.

"Did you have any other tools similar to the ones humans use?" Mila asked curiously.

Ratchet looked down at her with something akin to surprise and happiness. It was obvious no one really talked to him about things he knew and liked. "Yes, I did. Would you like to hear about them?"

Mila nodded with a small smile. She knew she was supposed to be keeping her distance, but what harm could talking about tools do?

* * *

><p>Two hours later and Ratchet and Mila were in deep conversation. They had moved past tools and onto the medical practices of Cybertron.<p>

"Did you have other medics on Cybertron?" Mila asked.

Ratchet nodded. "Yes, however most of them were killed in the war." His optics saddened in loss. "Medics weren't designed to be warriors."

Mila instantly felt like a jerk. "I'm sorry."

Ratchet gave her a small smile. "You couldn't have known."

"But still... it must hurt..."

Ratchet turned his gaze to the wall. "Yes, it does. But in a war, there's no room for feeling sorry for yourself-"

"You need to move on."

Ratchet's gaze turned to the human that interrupted him. "Yes." he agreed.

Mila offered him a weak smile, one that lacked actual happiness. "I've had to move from home to home for nearly as long as I can remember. Although I'm young, I have a basic understanding of the concept of moving on." She looked at her lap with a small sigh.

"For one so young, you do have an understanding." Ratchet agreed.

They fell into silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Before Mila looked up at Ratchet tentatively. "Do you think... it'll get better?"

Ratchet was momentarily stumped by the timid question. "I do," he finally answered. "I can promise you that we won't let anything happen to you. That _I_ won't."

Mila, despite her best efforts, couldn't find it in herself to doubt Ratchet's word.

She didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

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><p><span>End notes:<span> Yes, Mila's _non-romantic_ relationship with Ratchet is forming. Keep in mind that any romance in this story will be simply implied, and none of it about Mila. She's only 10, for goodness sakes!

_**R&R :)**_


	5. Dinner and a Show

Warning: Step-by-step cooking instructions. This is mostly a filler chapter, and therefore pointless. That is why I wasted like, half of it by making dinner.

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Dinner and a Show<strong>

Prowl entered Ratchet's medbay not long after. The tactician was surprised to find Mila and Ratchet deep in conversation. This was a good sign- maybe Mila was finally opening up. Maybe she would even begin to talk to the others.

Prowl, although he hated to interrupt the moment, cleared his vocalizer. Ratchet and Mila looked over at him. The utter lack of emotion on their faces was kind of creepy. They looked like twins.

Ratchet raised an optic ridge. "Can we help you?" he asked flatly.

Prowl snapped out of his stupor. "Yes. Mila, it is time for... dinner."

"Dinner? What happened to lunch?" Mila asked, perplexed.

Prowl let a small smile show, one so small that it was barely there at all. "You and Ratchet have been conversing longer than you think."

"Oh." Mila turned to Ratchet, giving him a smile the same size as Prowl's. "See you later, then."

Ratchet gave a half smile back. "Of course."

Prowl helped Mila down from a berth, straightening. He turned, striding out of the medbay. Mila made a face, before jogging after him. Ratchet, now alone in the medbay, shook his head in amusement.

* * *

><p>The first thing Mila noticed when she got into the kitchen was the added appliances. A black stove, a black fridgefreezer, a black microwave and an off-white sink. How they sculpted the sink into the existing counter top, Mila didn't know.

"Our human companions helped us gather the missing supplies," Prowl explained. Mila nodded. "This cabinet holds the... pots and pans," Prowl pointed. Said cabinet was next to the one holding the dishes and silverware.

Mila gave a nod, walking to the non-perishable cabinet. She peered in, finally pulling out a thing of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. She closed the cabinet, putting the box on the counter. Mila then got out a pot, a strainer, a fork, a measuring cup, a spoon and a wooden spoon. She placed them all neatly on the counter top. Mila then turned on the sink, filling the pot with hot water. She turned the sink off, putting the pot on the stove. She turned the knob and fire crackled to life under the pot.

Prowl watched, fascinated, as the water began to bubble.

Once the water was bubbling, Mila poured the macaroni into the pot. She stirred it a few times with the wooden spoon, before putting the spoon down. Mila stirred the macaroni a few times every minute for eight minutes.

Mila used the wooden spoon to take out a few pieces of macaroni. She let them cool down for a minute or so, before putting one into her mouth. It was squishy and easy to chew- perfect.

Mila turned off the stove, allowing the blue fire to go out. She then grabbed the strainer, placing it over the sink. It balanced precariously, but Mila didn't seem to be worried. In fact, she picked up the pot and brought it over to the strainer. She then dumped the macaroni into the strainer, letting the water drain from the food. Once the pot was empty, she placed it on the counter. Mila then picked up the strainer, shaking it. The remaining water drained out, going down the drain.

Mila then placed the macaroni back into the pot. She carried the pot back to the counter near the stove and put it down. She then opened the fridge, pulling out butter and milk. She closed the fridge with her foot, carrying the items over. She opened the butter, using the spoon to put some into the pot. She then stirred it with the wooden spoon. Once the butter was melted, she poured the cheese powder in. She then filled the measuring cup with milk, dumping it into the pot. Mila stirred it all with the wooden spoon, a look of concentration on her face.

Prowl observed this, completely awed. He had never seen a human cook before. It was such a foreign practice to him; for Cybertronians, all you needed to do was fill an energon cube and drink it. But for humans, it was an art. _'Well,'_ the cynical part of Prowl started snidely, _'Cooking is called Culinary Art.'_

Mila had sat down at the table, a plate full of macaroni and cheese in front of her. The portion wasn't large, but it wasn't too small either; it was somewhere in the middle. Since Prowl knew Mila was anorexic, he didn't push her to eat more. Anorexic people can shrink their stomachs, and it takes a while for them to re-expand.

Yes, the Autobots did research. They wanted to be prepared, after all. Besides, Sparkplug was always willing to offer a hand to those in need. Spike as well, although he didn't know as much as his father.

By the time Prowl snapped out of his musings, Mila was halfway done with her dinner. He watched as she finished the orange substance. Sometimes Prowl wondered why they only had pink energon. Oh, wait. The twins attempted to change that once... needless to say, the end results were not good(*).

Mila stood up with her empty plate, bringing it over to the sink. As if out of habit, she grabbed dish soap, a towel_(Spike must have left those there, Prowl realized)_ and turned on the sink. She then began to clean off her dishes until they looked like they did before she used them.

Mila put the dishes away, but frowned at the dirty towel. She looked up at Prowl. "What do I do with this?" she motioned to the towel.

"Just leave it there for now. We are still acquiring the washing machine and drying machine that Spike told us to buy."

Mila frowned. "Spike?"

"One of our human companions," Prowl explained.

"Oh."

Silence descended over the two. It was slightly awkward, but it was to be expected. Neither Mila nor Prowl seemed to be able to summon the nerve to break it. Luckily, they didn't have to.

Hot Rod came into the kitchen, a smile on his face. "Hey guys!" he greeted, lightening the air.

Prowl gave a polite nod. "Hello, Hot Rod."

Mila simply gave a half wave. She still wasn't totally comfortable around the Autobots yet. It was expected, due to her past, but still slightly disheartening.

"Some of the others and I were about to watch some human television." Hot Rod moved his gaze from Mila to Prowl. "Either of you want to watch it with us?"

"No, thank you," Prowl declined. Honestly, Hot Rod wasn't expecting a different answer. He was hoping Mila would accept.

"I... sure." Mila agreed, much to Hot Rod and Prowl's pleasure. Anything she did that involved the others was a step in the right direction, as far as they were concerned.

"Want a ride?" Hot Rod placed his hand next to Mila. The girl eyed it for a minute before climbing on. She honestly didn't think she could run after Hot Rod tonight, Prowl left her tired enough.

Both Autobots exited the kitchen, the lights turning off automatically. Prowl bade the other two good night, heading towards his office. Hot Rod paused a minute, before smiling down at Mila.

"Let's go!" Hot Rod started off enthusiastically.

* * *

><p>Mila sat on the Autobot sized table while Jazz, a mech who had introduced himself as Hound, Bumblebee and, of course, Hot Rod sat around her. The Autobots didn't really care what they watched- they just wanted the "human experience", as some had dubbed it.<p>

"What do you want to watch?" Hound asked Mila. She could see he was making an effort to be friends.

"I don't care." Mila stated simply.

Hound didn't falter. "Alright. 'Bee, pick a channel!"

Bumblebee gave a cheerful nod, before doing just that. All five of them sat in silence, watching the show. All was fine, until some particular language came up.

"_We returned the plates, we can hold our heads high. We did the right thing."_ said a man with gray hair.

"_Yeah, and look what it got us. This is bullshit."_ responded a darker skinned man with dark brown hair.

Jazz was quick to change the channel, but he somehow managed to make it look nonchalant. Mila rolled her eyes mentally. It wasn't as if she'd never heard a curse word before.

Instead, a family comedy came onscreen. Mila mentally sighed. Just when things were getting interesting. Dang her age!

* * *

><p>That night, as she was falling asleep, Mila reflected. In two more days, she would be either leaving or staying for good.<p>

Yesterday Mila wanted nothing to do with the Autobots. But today, she realized that Ratchet isn't such a bad guy, so to speak. Neither were Jazz or Hot Rod.

But still... did that mean she was willing to say, even if they chose to keep her?

With that thought, Mila drifted off to sleep, Amico held tightly at her side.

* * *

><p><span>End notes:<span> There you go, my personal recipe for mac 'n' cheese! XD I don't own the shows mentioned(_The A Team_ and _Happy Days_) or Transformers. Next chapter will have some actual progression :D

_**Reviews inspire! ;3**_


	6. Human Interaction

**Chapter Six: Human Interaction**

The next day came quickly. The sun was just crowning the horizon, casting light hues across the sky. Mila was curled up in bed, oblivious to the natural beauty.

"Mila!"

Until someone shouted through her door, that is. Mila sat up, blinking sleep from her eyes. "Mila!" the voice called again, this time accompanied by pounding on her door.

"I'm coming!" Mila called back, annoyed. She made her bed and put Amico away. Mila grabbed a change of clothes; a denim skirt with black leggings and a blue tank top. She headed into the bathroom, showered and changed. When she emerged, she opened the door.

Hot Rod was standing there, beaming. "Oh, good, you're up."

Mila barely resisted the urge to pull her hair and scream. "Yes, I am," she ground out.

Hot Rod was painfully oblivious to her irritation. "Come on, let's eat. Then you can meet someone, two someone's actually."

_'More people to meet? Just my luck,'_ she groaned mentally.

"Let's go!" Hot Rod declared enthusiastically. The flamed mech flounced off down the hallway like an excited five year old girl. Mila was left behind, causing her to run after him as he headed to the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Breakfast was cereal... again. Mila really needed to see if she could get some pancake mix or something. Prowl had been swamped with work, meaning Hot Rod was her escort of the day.<p>

"So," Mila started as she put her dishes away. "Who am I meeting today?"

"That would be me," a voice announced from behind her.

Mila spun around to face who had spoken. Much to her shock, it was a human! He was sometime in his early twenties, with curly brown hair and matching brown eyes. The man had a friendly smile on his face and a relaxed posture; he honestly wanted to meet her.

"My name's Spike Witwicky."

Mila gathered her wits before responding, "My name's Mila."

Hot Rod, who was silently watching the exchange, frowned as he noticed something. Mila didn't seem as tense as she usually was around the Autobots. _'What if she's afraid of us?'_ The thought was almost too much for Hot Rod to bear.

Oblivious to Hot Rod's thoughts, Mila and Spike continued talking. "So how did you meet them?" Mila questioned.

"The Decepticons attacked the place where my dad and I worked. The Autobots came to save the day, and well, the rest is history!" Spike finished with a chuckle.

Mila, however, was bemused. "Decepticons?" she repeated questioningly.

Spike's face changed to one of abashment. He glanced up at Hot Rod, who's optics were wide. Spike got the message; _"Don't tell her yet!"_

"Hey, you wanna meet my dad?" Spike asked, quickly changing the subject.

Mila saw the blatant topic change, but decided to let it slide for now. Spike wasn't treating her like a child, so Mila saw no reason to antagonize him. She would just ask Prowl or someone later. "Sure," Mila agreed.

Spike smiled. "Awesome! Come on," he started walking. Mila shook her head slightly, before following Spike.

Spike led them through a few hallways, all of them looking the same as the last. _'I'm never going to be able to find my way back,'_ Mila mourned silently. Spike, however, seemed to have no such thoughts as he continued on, his boots squeaking on the floor.

Finally the duo came to a large room with a huge computer. Or, at least Mila _thought_ it was a computer. It certainly looked more advanced than any computer a human could have designed.

"Spike!" a man of about forty years walked over. He looked like an older version of Spike, so Mila could only assume that they were related.

"Dad," Spike started, proving Mila's theory correct, "This is Mila! Mila, this is my father, Sparkplug."

Sparkplug smiled and extended his right hand. Mila eyed it for a second before she shook it. _'Thank goodness Ms. Green taught me social manners!'_

"It's nice to meet you!" Sparkplug declared, smile still firmly in place.

They dropped their hands and Mila gave a small smile. "Likewise."

And it was. Mila didn't trust and/or like all of the Autobots, but she saw no reason to do the same with the two men. They seemed incredibly kind, and weren't treating her like an incompetent child. Mila _really_ hated that.

"Hello Spike, Sparkplug, Mila." Optimus Prime's unmistakeable voice captured all three humans' attention. The Autobot leader walked into the room, optics light and signaling a smile behind his ever-present battle mask.

"Hey Optimus!" Spike greeted enthusiastically.

Mila managed to muster up a weak smile and a, "Hi."

This was really only the second time Mila had interacted with the large mech. Optimus was, as stated, large, regal and powerful. Although he seemed kind, Mila didn't trust him. Plus, he made her nervous and a little afraid.

"How are you getting along?" Optimus questioned.

"OK."

If Optimus was disappointed by Mila's curt answer, he didn't show it. Spike, however, shared a look with his father. Wordlessly, they decided to give Mila and Optimus some time alone. It looked like they needed it.

Mila noticed the two men make a (not so) discreet exit and frowned. Optimus noticed too, and the silence between the Autobot and human took a turn to the awkward and tense side. The first to break it was, surprisingly, Mila. "So... what's that?" she pointed to the huge computer.

Optimus' optics seemed to twinkle. "That's our main computer, Teletraan One. It can do almost anything," he boasted.

Mila was enthralled. "Does it have it's own intelligence?" It was an absurd notion, but with alien robots, who knew?

Optimus nodded. "Yes, Teletraan One has it's own intelligence. Not so much like the human design of artificial intelligence... more like sentience."

"So you have a sentient super-computer?"

Optimus chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you could call it that."

Mila's eyes were shining with wonder and awe. "That's... so cool!" she exclaimed, but became instantly embarrassed when Optimus laughed at her child-like outburst.

Before Mila's feelings could escalate however, Spike walked back into the room. He offered Mila a smile. "My dad and I are going to get some lunch, you wanna come?" he offered.

_'Lunch here or lunch out...'_ Mila mused. "Yeah, sure." she agreed. If she had to eat, she might as well eat something she could enjoy, right?

* * *

><p>Bumblebee ended up driving the three to the local McDonald's. Mila somehow knew that Bumblebee was watching her; making sure that she ate. It irked her a bit, but knowing there was nothing that she could do Mila let it slide.<p>

Spike had ordered a cheeseburger and fries and Sparkplug had ordered a Big Mac. Mila, on the other hand, had simply ordered a small salad and a water.

Spike took notice of this fact. It wasn't hard for him to figure out what was going on; Mila was anorexic. The young man saw no reason for her to be; she was a child, and wasn't overweight or ugly in any way!

So as the trio was leaving the fast food place, Spike pulled Mila to the side. "You're really pretty, Mila. Don't starve yourself." Spike then walked off.

Mila stared after him for a minute. No one had ever complimented her before, not even Kathy. That and the fact that she never got a home were probably the main reasons Mila decided to stop eating.

Mila felt tears prick her eyes as she raced to catch up with the others. That compliment had meant the world to her.

As Mila climbed into Bumblebee's back seat, Spike noticed her small, yet euphoric smile. Spike smiled as well, knowing that he had made a difference, small or not, in this young girl's life.

And as they drove, Mila considered eating again.

* * *

><p><span>End notes:<span> Because when it comes down to it, anorexia comes from people either telling you you're ugly or not complimenting you and making you think that you're ugly. Don't ever starve yourselves.

_**Reviews – please!**_


	7. The Witching Hour

**Chapter Seven: The Witching Hour**

Prowl groaned softly, making his way down the dark hallways. He had fallen asleep at his desk, of all places! So now he had a sore back strut and had to grope around in the dark to get to his room.

"No!"

The desperate plea stopped Prowl in his tracks. The Autobot looked around, dimly making out the silhouettes of the doors to the recharge quarters.

"Help!"

Prowl jerked, following the cry. He stopped outside a familiar door. Mila's room. _'Wait. Didn't Ms. Green say that Mila has nightmares?'_

Prowl decided to investigate. Without so much as making a sound, Prowl opened Mila's door. He could make out her form, wrapped up in her blanket. Mila kicked her leg out, a whimper escaping her. Prowl took a quiet step forward, and saw the deep frown etched on the young girl's face.

Prowl was startled. Mila was obviously having some sort of nightmare, and he had no idea what to do. Mila whimpered again, causing Prowl's spark to ache in sympathy. Prowl needed help of some sort. But who could help him?

Ratchet? No, this wasn't a medical situation. Optimus? No, Optimus didn't know a lot about humans. Wait – that was it! Someone who knows a lot about humans!

_/Prowl to Bumblebee,/_ Prowl activated his comm link.

There was a long pause. _/Prowl? What is it? It's the middle of the night!/_

_/Mila seems to be having a nightmare. Do you know what to do?/_

_/A nightmare, huh?/_ Bumblebee mused. _/No, I'm sorry. It's not like humans are having nightmares when Spike and I go to the movies, after all.../_

Prowl sighed. _/Thanks anyway, sorry to have disturbed you./_ he said and cut the link.

Prowl frowned. _'Well that was just great. Now what?'_ he groused.

* * *

><p>On the other end of the Autobot base, light spilled out from behind a closed door. Only one mech would actually be awake at this hour, and that was the Autobot's medic.<p>

Inside the medbay, Ratchet finished polishing the last berth. Every night, he cleaned the medbay from top to bottom. Because every day, he has injured mechs contaminating it. And most of the time, the twins are the ones injured... from their own idiocy.

Ratchet tossed the ratty sheet he was using as a rag in the "to be washed" pile in the far right corner. He then turned a critical optic to the medbay. The surfaces were so clean that the overhead fluorescent lights reflected off them. Said reflection was a bit irritating to Ratchet's optics, but that was just the way he liked it.

So with a sharp nod of approval, Ratchet pressed his large index finger against the huge light switch he had had Wheeljack install. The room plunged into blackness, pierced only by the glow of Ratchet's optics. Ratchet walked out of the medbay, the door sliding shut silently behind him.

The medic began the long trek across the base and to the recharge quarters. He had a relatively smooth journey, except for when he nearly walked smack into a wall. Cybertron was never this dark, which meant that the Cybertronians weren't outfitted with night vision. So like humans, they were essentially blind in the dark.

It was why they fought most of their battles during the day.

Ratchet had _finally_ made his way to the long hall of recharge quarters. He frowned, seeing the backside of a mech in the middle of said hallway. He crept forward, stopping just behind the mech. Ratchet squinted his optics, finally making out doorwings and a black and white paintjob.

"Prowl?"

Said mech extracted his upper half from the room, whirling to face Ratchet in obvious surprise. Ratchet arched his right optic ridge in a human facial expression he had picked up from Sparkplug.

"Shhh!" Prowl hissed.

Ratchet blinked in surprise. "What are you doing out here?" he inquired, voice lowered compliantly.

"I was walking by when I heard someone crying out," Prowl explained. "It was Mila, she appears to be having a vivid nightmare."

Ratchet's face gained a concerned frown. From what their human companions has told him, nightmares could bring about physical ailment. It was usually with an ongoing stream of them, however. Still, they were highly unpleasant... if Spike's – most likely exaggerated – tales of his own nightmares were anything to go by.

"Perhaps we should wake her," Ratchet suggested.

Prowl nodded thoughtfully. "I do not wish to disturb her sleep cycle, but it would be the best course of action."

_'Always the tactician,'_ Ratchet thought drily. "Then let's wake her," he said aloud.

Prowl and Ratchet walked inside the young girl's room. Ratchet slid the door closed behind him slowly, making sure not to make a sound. Not to much for Mila, but for everyone else who was recharging in the quarters around them.

Prowl knelt down beside Mila's bed carefully. He reached out a finger, gently prodding Mila. "Mila, wake up..." Prowl said in a volume that ranged somewhere between 'normal' and 'quiet'.

"Ngh..." Mila groaned, not opening her eyes.

Prowl glanced over at Ratchet with concern. "Is she unwell?"

"No. She's just asleep."

Prowl nodded, going back to prodding Mila. The girl didn't wake for a good few minutes – minutes that consisted of prodding. Finally, she opened her eyes. Prowl stood up quickly, not wanting to overwhelm her.

"Wha-?" Mila asked groggily.

"You were having a nightmare," Ratchet explained.

"Oh..."

"Are you alright?" Prowl asked, barely concealed concern in his voice.

Mila paused, before she nodded. "Yeah, I'm- oh my gosh, it's two forty-five in the morning!" she exclaimed.

Prowl and Ratchet were flummoxed. "Yes, it is," Ratchet's mouth turned downwards slightly into a half frown. "But why does that matter?"

"It's just really late..."

It was safe to say that the childish response amused both Prowl and Ratchet. "Then perhaps we should let you sleep," Prowl said.

"We could use some sleep anyway," Ratchet added.

Mila nodded, laying back down. She closed her eyes, attempting to fall back asleep.

Prowl and Ratchet had barely made it out the door when Mila spoke. "Thanks," she started softly, "For waking me up."

The two Autobots smiled. Mila seemed to be warming up to them, even though Prowl made her eat. It was a good sign; the more... pessimistic of the Autobots had thought Mila wouldn't warm to anyone.

"You're welcome," Prowl responded.

"Get some sleep," Ratchet instructed.

Mila sighed softly, before her breathing began to slow. Prowl and Ratchet silently slipped out of her room, closing the door just as silently. They stood outside the door for a minute, before they turned to each other.

"See you in the morning?" Prowl offered.

Ratchet nodded. "Indeed."

The two Autobots split, going into their respective recharge quarters. It was an overall interesting and semi-productive night. At least they know that Mila doesn't _hate_ them anymore. More of a... distrust.

Well, no matter what, they would help her. Autobots never give up.

* * *

><p><span>End notes:<span> Short chapter, I know. Ideas seemed to flee.

_**Review-!**_


	8. Your Trial Is Nearly Over

**Chapter Eight: Your Trial Is Nearly Over**

Mila was woken up at six thirty that morning by a tired-sounding Prowl. "Mila, it's time to wake up," he had called through the door. Mila had simply groaned to let him know she heard him. She got out of bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a lilac T-shirt. She headed into the bathroom and showered. As Mila got dressed, she realized something:

This was the last day before the decision.

The revelation made her stop, just as she finished pulling her shirt down. Did she want to stay? Did _they_ want her to stay? What would life be like if she stayed?

Mila sighed. There was no use stressing about it; what was going to happen would happen. So she stepped outside her room, looking up at Prowl. How he always managed to wait for her in the mornings Mila didn't know. Prowl must have the ultimate patience.

Prowl looked down at her. "How was your night?" he asked.

Mila vaguely recalled the nightmare and being woken up by Prowl and Ratchet. After that nothing, so she could only assume that it was... "Good," she said.

Prowl nodded. "Good."

The duo started off to the kitchen in silence. As Mila ate, she pondered reasons why she would stay; why she should or shouldn't stay. It was like an endless tug-of-war match within herself. Finally Mila gave up, finished breakfast and washed the dishes. She couldn't afford the heartache thinking about it was bringing.

"Does today have a plan?" Mila inquired.

Prowl shook his head. "No. You are free to do as you wish."

"My escort?"

"Unneeded."

That was a first in the whole time Mila had been there. She had a feeling it was a last attempt to get her to soften up to life around here. To soften up to the Autobots themselves, because she still didn't trust them... most of them.

"Thank you, Prowl," Mila said with a small smile.

Prowl looked a bit stunned as he replied, "You are welcome."

Mila then headed out of the kitchen and down the hallway. She had a basic understanding of the layout of the places she'd actually been. So she made her way to the main room, the one with Teletraan One. Maybe Mila could find something to do in there.

Upon entering her destination, Mila noticed that everyone inside the room was relaxed. The second thing she noticed was that she didn't know anyone save for Spike. Mila headed over to the older man, who smiled at her approach.

"Hey, Mila!" he greeted.

"Who are all these people?" Mila asked, jerking her head towards the Autobots.

Spike chuckled. "Come on, I'll introduce you!"

Mila had little choice but to follow as Spike headed for the nearest mech. He was blue and white. "Hey!" Spike called up.

The mech glanced down. "Spike," he greeted, eying Mila.

"This is Mila. Mila, this is-"

"Mirage," the mech cut Spike off. Spike didn't seem insulted, though. More like exasperated.

"Nice to meet you," Mila said, more out of habit than anything else. Mirage nodded, turned, and exited the room. Mila watched him go with a raised eyebrow. _'What a snob!'_

"May no attention to him," another mech stated. He was white and gray with green on his legs and red on his chest. He had a mask and two large things that lit up where ears would be on humans. "He was from the highest social class back on Cybertron. I'm Wheeljack, by the way."

"Mila."

Wheeljack's ear fins _(Mila didn't know what to call them)_ flashed blue. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mila."

Mila smiled slightly. "Likewise." It was pretty much true; he seemed to be friendly and caring. But then again, so did most of the Autobots. With some exceptions, of course.

Wheeljack stood up. "I'm needed in the medical bay. Sorry," he said kindly, leaving the room.

_'Well that was abrupt,'_ Mila noted drily.

"Wheeljack's always busy," Spike shrugged. "You kinda get used to the way he runs around."

Mila simply nodded. "I guess I'll go look around," she informed.

Spike nodded in understanding. There was nothing left to do in this room, anyway. "See you later!"

Mila waved, exiting the room. This time, she would be daring. It was time for some exploring.

* * *

><p>Mila was walking down a previously unexplored hallway. It was silent, save for the muffled sound of her shoes on the floor. If only she could figure out what was behind all these doors...<p>

"Mila?"

Mila jumped and spun around in surprise. Optimus stood in a doorway she had just passed. From what she could see of his face, he was a bit confused as to why she was standing just outside his office.

"What are you doing out here?"

Mila relaxed her frightened stance to one of wariness. "I was just... looking around." At Optimus' dubious look, Mila added, "Prowl said I could!"

Optimus nodded. "I see. Would you like to come inside?"

Mila contemplated the question. She had never been alone with Optimus before. But hey, if today was her last day here then why not go all the way? "OK."

Optimus carefully stepped to the side, allowing Mila access to the room. Once she was inside, Optimus closed his door. Mila opted to crush the rising fear and instead look around the huge office. There was an Autobot-sized metal desk and a mesh chair. The metal didn't look human, so Mila assumed it was from the Autobots' home planet.

Eying the Autobot sigil that took up the wall behind Optimus' chair, Mila said, "Nice place."

Optimus chuckled slightly. "Thank you."

Optimus sat down in his chair, offering a hand down to Mila. She stepped on, allowing Optimus to lift her onto his desk. They were closer in eye level now, and it was a relief. Mila was getting sick of tilting her head all the way back. Autobots are so _tall_...

"How are you enjoying your stay?" Optimus broke the silence.

Mila thought about her answer. "Yeah. I mean, mostly everyone seems really nice, although I feel confused a lot." Her eyes brightened as she remembered a question she never got to ask. "What's a Decepticon?"

Optimus looked like he had been slapped. _'How could I have overlooked the Decepticons...?'_ he moaned silently. Of course Mila would be curious, and of course he would have to tell her about the age old war.

Mila watched his visible reaction with a frown. "It's not good, is it?" she asked quietly, as if afraid to know the answer.

Optimus vented in a deep sigh. "You need to know eventually... do you want to know?"

Mila nodded. With a statement like that, how could she _not_ want to know?

Optimus sighed again. "It started millions of years ago; before the formation of this planet, actually. We had a government much like yours; the Council. Their word was law, however most of it was unfair. Prejudiced, if you will." Mila was captivated. "One mech decided to do something about it. Megatron, the leader of the Decepticons. He rallied up a resistance, made up of mostly mechs who were subject to prejudice. But power soon corrupted him, and Megatron started a war. The Autobots were formed to protect innocents, although most mechs had to choose a side. The war ravaged our planet. A select few of both armies headed off planet to find supplies; more food, in your terms. We bumped into the Decepticons and engaged in battle on this ship. We were pulled into Earth's gravitational field, and crashed here. We awoke and fought the Decepticons on this planet, keeping it safe from harm. The Decepticons are still out there, no doubt plotting their next move."

Mila stood there in stunned silence as Optimus finished his tale. She had no idea that all that had happened, it sounded so painful. Having to choose sides like that. "I... had no idea," she finally said softly.

"There's no way you could have known," Optimus said gently.

After all that war... they must be so battle hardened. But... why would a bunch of soldiers want to adopt a small, helpless human girl? "Can I... ask a question?" Mila asked hesitantly.

"Of course."

"Why would you want to adopt me?"

Optimus was startled by the question. "Because... we want a light in life. We cannot have children anymore, and miss them. You, Mila, are a blessing."

Mila felt like crying. She had never felt this special in her entire life.

There was a knock on Optimus' door, and it opened to reveal Prowl. "Mila, it's time for dinner," he stated.

Optimus looked at Mila, compassion in his gaze. "Until tomorrow," he regarded, lowering Mila to the ground. She smiled at Optimus, before following Prowl out.

Optimus watched her go, a contemplative look in his optics. Tomorrow's decision would make or break her... and himself, as well.

* * *

><p><span>End notes:<span> So, what did you think? CherryBlossom713 had requested some Optimus/Mila bonding, and I hope it delivered :)

_**Click it.**_


	9. Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Disclaimer: Don't own the song mentioned in the chapter or Transformers, for that matter.

**Chapter Nine: Should I Stay or Should I Go?**

Mila awoke the next day with her stomach in a giant knot. She had barely gotten any sleep, as she was tossing and turning; anxious about today. Or, more specifically, today's decision.

Mila glanced over at the wall clock. The little hand was on the five, the big on the six. Mila groaned softly, burying her face in her pillow. _'It's so early...'_ But alas, Mila could not fall back asleep. She was up for the day, whether she was tired or not. So with a groan, she hoisted herself out of bed.

After showering and dressing, Mila sat on her bed. The clock read fifty after five, which left her about ten minutes to think about what she wanted.

After a few minutes Mila felt like pulling her hair out. Why was it so hard to make the important decisions? It reminded Mila of a song that came out a few years prior. The song was by a band called _The Clash_. It was called 'Should I Stay or Should I Go', and was basically about what the title implied.

_'So... should I stay or should I go?'_ Mila asked herself.

In the end, though, the decision wasn't really hers. It was the Autobots', and she had no idea what they thought of her. Insecurities from past homes that turned her down reared their ugly heads. The voice that everyone has began whispering in the darkest corner of her mind.

"_You're not good enough,"_ it whispered. _"They'll never want a screw-up like you."_

Mila could only believe that partially. She had received the only compliments she'd ever gotten in her life here. From the Autobot leader, no less. Not that Spike's compliment didn't make her feel special, because it did.

So obviously, they liked her. But the question is... would they _keep_ her? No, that didn't sound right. Would the _adopt_ her?

"Mila," Prowl's voice came through the door, breaking her from her thoughts.

Mila stood up and opened her door. "I'm awake," she said. "Let's go."

Prowl quickly exchanged his surprised face for one of his usual impassiveness. He nodded, starting off. Mila followed him like a shadow; silent and in his wake.

When they got to the kitchen, Mila realized she wasn't really hungry. But knowing that she didn't have a real choice in the eating matter, she somehow managed to choke down a bowl of cereal. If she stayed, she would need more soon. If...

"Miss Green will be arriving around noon," Prowl informed Mila.

Mila nearly dropped the bowl she was washing in shock. "Ok," was all she said. That one sentence seemed to have made it all real for her. Instead of it being a bad waking dream, it was reality.

Putting the now clean dishes away, Mila looked up at Prowl. The clock in the kitchen revealed it to be roughly seven a.m. What was she going to do to pass the time? "It's up to you what you wish to do," Prowl said as if sensing her thoughts.

Mila thought about it for a minute. Something distracting was what she needed. Television? No, contrary to popular belief that was not distracting. Not from the big problems at least, nor from your demons. Maybe what she needed was a nice walk. Even if it wasn't distracting, it helped to soothe your mind.

"Could I go for a walk maybe?" At Prowl's look of disapproval, she added, "I won't leave or anything."

Prowl sighed. "As long as you don't leave," he relented.

Mila gifted Prowl with a small smile. "Thanks."

Prowl looked a bit surprised. Obviously he wasn't used to being thanked. But he slowly nodded. Mila took that as a cue to leave, so she did.

Mila wandered the halls aimlessly. She really didn't know – or care, for that matter – where she was going. She wasn't really paying attention, either. So it was a bit of a surprise to suddenly find herself in the med bay... when she didn't remember going in there in the first place.

"Mila, are you injured?" Ratchet's voice drew her attention to him.

"No," Mila shook her head. "I was walking and I just sort of... ended up in here, I guess."

Ratchet nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, since you're here would you like to stay?" he offered.

Mila thought about it. She liked Ratchet, she really did. So what harm would it do to stay? None. "Sure," she accepted.

Ratchet smiled and gave her a lift onto one of the large berths. He then turned his attention to the desk next to the berth. He picked up a large medical instrument of some sort and marked something on a large... something.

"What are you doing?" Mila asked with curiosity.

Ratchet glanced over at Mila. "Inventory," he said simply.

"Oh." Mila pointed to the thing he was writing on. "What's that?"

"This is a datapad. It's like our version of your paper."

"Oh."

The two drifted into a semi-comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. "You know," Ratchet started suddenly, startling Mila slightly. "We all really care about you. Myself included."

"Uh..."

Ratchet smiled at Mila's bewilderment. "I wouldn't worry. If I have anything to say about it, which I do, you're staying."

Mila gave Ratchet a watery smile of gratitude. "Thanks," she said.

Ratchet simply nodded, going back to his inventory.

* * *

><p>The time went surprisingly fast inside the med bay. Ratchet and Mila didn't even know the time had passed until Prowl came in. "Mila, Miss Green is here," he informed.<p>

Ratchet gave Mila a reassuring smile, helping her to the ground. Mila held Ratchet's gaze for a minute, before she turned and followed Prowl from the room.

As they walked, Mila felt any confidence she had gained slowly start to evaporate into nothing, leaving her with the urge to flee.

Once they got outside, it took all of Mila's willpower not to.

Kathy Green smiled at Mila. "How have you been?" she asked.

"Fine."

Kathy nodded, as she had been expecting a cold demeanor. It was a coping mechanism for Mila when the day of decision came. "Now, I really only have one question," Kathy stared up at Optimus. "Are you adopting this girl or not?"

Mila looked slightly offended by the terminology. But her main emotion was very clear: fear.

"Miss Green, we all care deeply for Mila," Optimus started, his voice holding deep compassion. "She is a very caring child, one with a pure heart. She is something we need; a light, a hope. We would be honored to adopt Mila."

Mila felt tears falling down her face at the kind mini-speech. No one had ever said they would be honored to adopt her. She realized then that she didn't hate them anymore, and was actually starting to trust most of them. That realization brought another:

She had a home.

Kathy's smile took up her whole face. She was extremely happy for Mila. The young girl had never had a real home; she had never had anyone to care about her after her mother died, save for Kathy. "Well, I'll just need you to sign a few papers," Kathy said.

"Of course," Optimus agreed.

Kathy held up a clipboard, and Optimus somehow managed to hold a pen and sign it. It was a pretty impressive feat, if Mila was going to be honest.

Kathy looked over the paperwork and placed it back in a folder. "Well, everything is in order. Mila, I'll swing by in a month. Just protocol, you understand," she added to the Autobots.

Optimus nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Miss Green."

Kathy smiled. "It's my pleasure." She hugged Mila tightly, before stepping back. "Call me if you need anything," she called as she climbed into her car.

Mila waved as the car slowly vanished into the horizon. She felt totally and completely overwhelmed; this was something she never imagined happening. She had a home.

"Let's go inside," Optimus smiled down at her, starting off with the other Autobots.

Mila started to follow them when she heard the sound of jets. "What's that?" she asked with a frown, causing the Autobots to stop and listen.

The sound of transforming and guns loading filled the air.

And the world exploded into chaos.


	10. A Trip to the Past

**Chapter Ten: A Trip to the Past**

Mila screamed as gunshots peppered the ground. "Get her inside!" Optimus shouted to Prowl.

Prowl scooped up Mila, running inside the ship. Mila was hugging herself tightly. She was absolutely petrified.

Prowl made a beeline for his office, closing and locking the door once inside. He gently set Mila on his desk, frowning when he saw her eyes misted with tears. "Mila, are you alright?" he asked gently.

"Who... what... why..." Mila gasped out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Decepticons," Prowl answered gravely. Mila gasped and her heartbeat sped up in alarm.

Prowl sighed softly. He really did understand Mila's fear. He remembered his own first Decepticon attack. "Mila, calm down. You'll be fine," he attempted to comfort.

Mila sniffled. "I... I need a distraction," she paused, looking up at Prowl hopefully. "Could you tell me about your first Decepticon attack?"

Prowl seemed a bit taken aback by the request. It wasn't something that a child should really hear. Mila sensed this from his expression. "I can handle violence, Prowl."

Prowl sighed, "Very well."

Mila smiled, sitting down with her legs crossed. Prowl sat in his chair, optics dimming as he pulled up a stored memory file.

* * *

><p><em>Prowl was a young recruit. He had just been promoted to Chief Tactician of the Autobot Army by Optimus Prime himself, which was a great honor.<em>

_It was such a great honor, especially for a rookie like himself, that Prowl had devoted all his time to being the best tactician he could be. He refused to fail Optimus._

_But it was the ultimate test when the Decepticons attacked._

_Prowl had been going over a datapad containing strategy ideas when the alarm in the Autobot's base in Iacon went off; an obnoxious blaring sound accompanied by a red flashing light. It was enough to make Prowl instantly spring into action, his battle computer already online._

_He instantly headed for Optimus' office, bumping into said mech halfway there. "Prowl, the Decepticons are attacking a small town nearby! They're slaughtering everyone except for the mechs they can recruit, and I need your input on the best course of action."_

_Prowl felt nervousness and fear come to the forefront of his emotions. He needed to be able to focus, so Prowl turned off his emotions with his emotional damper. Instantly he was focused; strategies running through his battle computer at near lightning speeds._

"_I believe the best course of action would be to expel the Decepticons from the town as quickly as possible. Anyone with medical training, basic or not, should come along to save anyone who can be saved," Prowl stated, his voice lacking any emotion, making it flat._

"_I'll inform the troops," Optimus stated. He paused, looking at Prowl seriously. "Turning off your emotions will only cause you injury."_

"_Will all do respect sir, I know."_

_Optimus sighed. He couldn't waste time on this right now; innocent lives were at stake. So he settled for a pat on the shoulder in passing, causing Prowl to look at him oddly. "Come on, Prowl. We need to get moving," Optimus stated as he continued walking._

_Prowl nodded, following after Optimus. He would do everything in his power to help save lives and help the Autobots achieve victory._

_.::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::._

_When the Autobots got to the town most of the civilians were already offline. The Decepticons were still running rampant, however. "Autobots! Drive the Decepticons out!" Optimus called._

_There was a roar of affirmative as the two sides clashed in a heated life-or-death match. Prowl felt a trickle of fear get past the emotional damper before he pushed it back. He had Decepticons to fight._

"_Autobot!" a voice shrieked._

_Prowl looked up just in time to be barreled into by a red, white and blue Seeker. His databanks revealed the Seeker to be Starscream, Megatron's Second-In-Command._

_The two crashed into the ground, the impact denting Prowl's hyper-sensitive doorwings. Prowl shoved Starscream off him and hissed in pain as he got up. Starscream smirked, raising his null ray. "Say goodbye, Auto-"_

_Prowl cut off the Decepticon with an acid pellet to the shoulder. Starscream snarled in pain and rage as processed energon began to flow from the wound. He aimed a punch at Prowl who dodged easily enough. Prowl retaliated with a punch, which missed it's original target but his Starscream's wing. Starscream's optics narrowed as he was filled with the need for energon – Prowl's energon._

_Starscream opened fire on Prowl, who returned the fire with determination. Prowl was cold and calculating, but not all of his shots hit the mark. Starscream was fast – fast, nimble and lithe. Therefore when Starscream decided it was time to end the fight, Prowl couldn't dodge._

_Too quickly for Prowl to block, Starscream punched him right in the chassis. His blue hand went right through Prowl's chassis, and he grabbed a handful of wires. Prowl cried out as Starscream pulled the wires out with one hand while pushing him down with the other._

_Prowl began to fall, processed energon pouring from the gaping wound at an alarming rate. He crashed into the ground, hitting his head on a stray piece of debris. The last thing Prowl saw before falling into stasis lock was Starscream cackling madly above him._

_.::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::._

_Prowl awoke a day later with Ratchet hovering over him. "You glitch! I almost lost you!" were the first words out of the medic's mouth._

_Prowl winced, but didn't respond. He didn't know how to. What was he to say? I'm sorry?_

"_I've fixed your chassis and replaced the wires. However... there was a complication," Ratchet said somberly._

"_L-like what?" Prowl stammered._

"_Now it's not life threatening, so calm down. Since you had your emotional dampener on, when you hit your head on the debris it... well, it caused a glitch."_

"_A glitch?"_

"_Yes, a glitch," Ratchet glared. Prowl wisely stopped talking. "Your logic center, which is right next to the emotional dampener, fried. A wire snapped, causing it to short out. I couldn't do much to fix it without causing more damage. Basically, when faced with illogical situations you'll short out."_

_Prowl felt his spark sink. He was no good now; he would be kicked out of the Autobot army for sure._

_.::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::._

_Optimus and Prowl sat across from each other at Optimus' desk. Prowl had recovered physically, weld marks the only evidence of his previous injury. However, mentally he was still damaged._

"_Prowl, we did very well on that mission. We even managed to save four lives, thanks to your plan. So I would like to know-" Optimus smiled, "-If you would be willing to be my Second-In-Command as well as Chief Tactician."_

_Prowl gawped. "Sir, I'm honored. But I have a glitch..."_

"_Yes, Ratchet told me all about it. It won't hinder you in your work Prowl, and therefore you are a perfect candidate for the positions. Now what do you say?"_

_Prowl smiled, "It would be an honor, Optimus Prime. I accept."_

_Optimus' optics twinkled. He and Prowl shook hands, sealing the deal._

"_Please," Optimus said in a friendly manner, "Call me Optimus."_

* * *

><p>Mila sat, staring at Prowl in awe. He overcame the Decepticon attack <em>and<em> got promoted! "Wow," she breathed.

Prowl gave her a small smile. "If I can overcome that, you can too. Don't worry; everything will work out."

Mila smiled at Prowl. She was feeling quite a bit better, and was not as frightened. _'I trust him,'_ Mila realized with a start. She trusted his words and himself in general.

"Thank you, Prowl," Mila said.

Prowl nodded once, shifting in his chair. The two drifted into a comfortable silence, waiting for any word from the battle and hoping that the Autobots were doing alright.

* * *

><p><span>End note:<span> I can't write action scenes to save my life. Sorry!


	11. Fear

Warning: Violence. I don't think it really needs a warning, but just in case.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: Fear<strong>

It was after six o'clock at night by the time the Decepticons had retreated. Mila and Prowl had been waiting anxiously when Optimus finally contacted Prowl, weariness coloring his voice.

_/No one was offlined. It's safe./_

Prowl had immediately relayed the message to Mila, who seemed to melt with relief. As the remaining adrenaline and anxiousness bled out of her system, Mila realized just how_ dead tired_ she was. Adding together the fact that she hadn't slept well the night before and today's excitement it was no wonder.

Prowl noticed Mila's increasing tiredness. He could definitely relate, although he had a lot to do before he could sleep himself. "Mila, you should get to bed," Prowl said.

"Yeah," Mila agreed with a yawn. She stepped onto Prowl's hand and he lowered her to the floor. Mila walked out of the room as if in a daze. Prowl stood up and followed Mila to her room, just to make sure that she made it there okay.

Mila made it to her room and, without looking back, went inside and closed the door. Prowl shook his head in mirth, turning to see Optimus for the report.

* * *

><p>Optimus looked up as Prowl entered his office. "Ah, Prowl. I've been expecting you," he said.<p>

Prowl nodded once. "So let's get down to business. Who was injured?"

Optimus sighed heavily. "Ratchet actually just gave me a detailed medical report. Everyone had minor injuries, as you can probably infer. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe each lost a limb each while performing their 'Jet Judo' on the Seekers, Ironhide's spark casing was dented, and one of Bumblebee's main fuel lines was ruptured. Luckily nothing was fatal."

"I see. How about the base? Was the _Ark_ compromised or otherwise damaged?" Prowl asked.

"Other then a few scorch marks, no."

Prowl seemed to brace himself as he asked, "What about Mila? Did they see her?"

Optimus paused to think about it. "No... no, I don't think they did. The dust covered her."

Prowl's doorwings lowered slightly, a sign of his relief. He had really come to care for the girl, and everyone knew it. Well, everyone except Mila, that is. The girl herself remained stubbornly obtuse to their feelings for her and, in turn, her's for them.

"Do we know what the Decepticons wanted?" Prowl started the conversation up again.

"I believe that it was simply an ambush in a desperate attempt to lower our numbers."

"Agreed," Prowl nodded. He paused and frowned, studying his leader's frame. Dents and scratches littered it as well as dried energon – his own and other mech's. "You should really get cleaned up and head over to Ratchet."

Optimus nodded and the corners of his optics rose, signaling a smile. "I think I'll do that and then get some recharge. You should do the same, old friend. You did well today."

"Thank you, sir," Prowl said with a small smile. He exited Optimus' office, recognizing a dismissal.

Prowl made his way to his room for some recharge; today had been very taxing and he was practically dead on his feet.

* * *

><p><em>Mila stared at the fight from behind a rock. The Decepticons – large, red-eyed metal monsters with jagged limbs and sharp fangs – were fighting fiercely. They obviously wanted the Autobots dead.<em>

_Mila was scared to realize that she was petrified of that happening._

"_Die, Optimus Prime!" Megatron roared out. He shot Optimus point blank in the chest, creating a smoking and sparking hole. Optimus' eyes dimmed and he crashed to the ground._

_Mila screamed, but no one heard her._

_Optimus' frame dulled to a dark gray. Megatron let out a laugh, one that chilled Mila to the bone. "Optimus Prime has fallen!" _

_The Autobots were all shocked and heartbroken, which provided the perfect opportunity for the Decepticons to finish the Autobots off for good._

_Mila watched with growing horror as each of the Autobots were slaughtered. "Hot Rod! Prowl! Jazz! Cliffjumper! Bumblebee! Sunstreaker! Sideswipe! Ratchet! Ironhide! Hound! Mirage! Wheeljack!" She cried out their names as each one fell._

_She gasped as Spike and Sparkplug ran out to the battlefield only to be shot to ashes. She shut her eyes tightly, forcing down the bile that threatened to rise._

"_Decepticons, retreat! We have won this war!" Megatron shouted. The Decepticons' cheering could be heard even after they were out of sight._

_Mila wasted no more time in running to the downed Autobots. _'Please let someone be alive! Please!' _She checked each and every one of them and found them all already gone. Until she came to the last ones, Prowl and Ratchet._

"_M-Mila," Ratchet coughed when he saw her run over._

"_Mila, you must... zzkt... go... we cannot stay..." Prowl said, static coloring his voice._

"_No! No, don't leave me!" Mila shrieked, tears falling down her face._

"_Goodbye, Mila..." they said in unison, their optics dimming and their frames fading to gray._

"_No! No! No!" Mila fell to her knees and sobbed. Sobbed for the loss of her friends, the loss of her life as she knew it, the loss of Earth. Darkness descended on her, and she fell to the ground._

* * *

><p>Mila bolted up in bed with a sharp gasp. She hunched over, burying her face in her hands as she cried. "It was just a nightmare... it wasn't real... It was just a nightmare... it wasn't real..." she repeated over and over as a mantra.<p>

When the tears had stopped flowing Mila looked at the clock. Two a.m. She lied down, pulling the covers up to her chin. She had just drifted off when she saw the Autobots' dead frames. Mila opened her eyes with a shaky gasp. She looked over at the clock again. Three a.m.

"I'll never get to sleep at this rate," she muttered to herself. She was rather annoyed with that fact – she liked the peacefulness of sleep. Plus she was already tired from not sleeping well that night or the previous one.

But at the same time she wasn't too surprised. Today had been terrifying with the waiting for her "adopted or not adopted" fate and then the Decepticon attack. So it was only natural she would have a nightmare or be unable to sleep properly or fitfully.

Mila just wished she didn't have this horrible foreboding feeling...

* * *

><p><span>End note:<span> Just to clarify, the description of the Decepticons in Mila's dream are what her mind conjured them up to be, as she didn't get to see any in the battle.


	12. A New Friend

**Chapter Twelve: A New Friend**

When Prowl knocked on Mila's door, she was already awake. She just simply hadn't been able to sleep, and when she did she had been plagued by images her mind conjured up.

"Mila, it's time to wake up," Prowl called.

His voice somehow soothed her; maybe it was because it proved he was, in fact, still alive. So with a bit of her edge gone, Mila called back, "I'm up!"

She climbed out of bed and stretched her arms with a yawn. She grabbed a change of clothes and vanished into the bathroom. After somewhere between ten and twenty minutes she emerged. Slipping on her shoes Mila opened the door. Prowl was waiting there patiently, as always.

Prowl escorted her to the kitchen and she ate her normal breakfast of cereal. Once the dishes were taken care of, Mila looked up at her escort/babysitter. "What am I doing today?" she asked.

Prowl, for his part, looked perplexed. "Er... well, to be honest nothing's been planned. We've all been busy."

"Busy from the Decepticon attack?"

"Yes," Prowl said tersely. He sighed, and in a slightly gentler tone said, "It's nothing for you to worry about. You can do what you wish today – within reason, of course."

"Alright, thanks Prowl."

Prowl gave her a small, barely-there smile. Mila gave a slightly larger smile back and exited the kitchen.

With no real destination in mind, Mila made her way to the main room again. She stopped when she saw Spike and Sparkplug talking to a woman Spike's age with blond hair. Not wanting to disturb them, Mila headed over to the other side of the room.

"Hey Mila!" Someone greeted her enthusiastically. _'Sideswipe,'_ her mind supplied for her. She had never really interacted with him, so with a mental shrug she headed over to his table.

"Hi, Sideswipe," she greeted, craning her neck to look up at him.

Sideswipe gave her a lift on top of the table. "You remember my name?" he sounded flabbergasted.

Mila smiled slightly, an amused smile. "Of course. Not all humans are bad with names."

Sideswipe chuckled. "Yeah, you got me there. When Spike first met us, he kept confusing me with my brother!"

Mila laughed. Sideswipe wasn't such a bad guy, she realized. And, since against her will she had come to trust the Autobots, she had a feeling they would be friends. He could make her laugh, at least. Not many people could.

"Hey guys!" Spike jogged over. Sideswipe gave him a lift up, too. "I never got to say welcome," Spike smiled at Mila.

"Uh, thanks," Mila said awkwardly.

Spike understood and decided to change the topic. "Wanna meet my girlfriend?"

"Uh, sure."

"Hey Carly!" Spike called over. The blond woman – Carly – made her way over. Sideswipe lifted her up onto the table as well. "Carly, this is Mila. Mila, this is Carly."

Carly gave Mila a friendly smile. "Hi," she greeted.

"Hi," Mila returned.

"Do you like it here?" Carly attempted to start a conversation.

"Uh... yes."

Carly decided to get off that topic, as Mila didn't seem very comfortable with it. "What do you like to do for fun?"

Carly seemed decent enough, so Mila answered honestly, "I like to read."

"I do, too! What's your favorite book?"

"Um... _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer_."

If Carly was surprised she didn't show it. Instead she smiled and said, "Cool. I personally liked _Wuthering Heights_... but I'm a hopeless romantic."

Spike laughed, slinging an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "Yes, yes you are," he said and kissed her.

Sideswipe looked about as uncomfortable with the public display of affection as Mila felt. "Wanna get out of here?" Sideswipe asked.

Mila nodded her agreement. She liked Carly just fine, but she didn't want to watch her and Spike kiss. Sideswipe had similar feelings. He helped Mila down and the two started off, out of the room. Sparkplug's shout of, "Break it up you lovebirds!" echoing behind them.

* * *

><p>Sunstreaker looked utterly unimpressed when Sideswipe and Mila entered his and Sideswipe's shared room. "What are you two doing here?" he asked, no clear emotion in his tone or on his face.<p>

"Spike and Carly starting making out," Sideswipe made a face as he lifted Mila onto his berth.

Sunstreaker snorted, but didn't give any other response. He simply turned back to... whatever he was doing. Mila wasn't sure, but it looked sort of like he was drawing on a huge easel of some sort.

"So, Mila, wanna watch some TV?" Sideswipe offered.

Mila frowned. "You want to go back to that room...?"

"No," Sideswipe laughed. "It just so happens that we have a TV in here! Isn't that right, Sunny?"

"Don't call me that."

Sideswipe made a face at his twin, who blatantly ignored him. They act just like human siblings, Mila realized.

Mila was surprised when Sideswipe pulled a TV on a platform with wheels out of a closet and into the room. "No one knows about this," Sideswipe informed.

"Oh. I won't tell," Mila answered the unspoken question.

Sideswipe grinned and cheered, "Then let's watch some TV!"

Sideswipe and Mila watched a bunch of different shows, but nothing too inappropriate. Sunstreaker tuned into some of them, during others he either went back to drawing or, in one case, went to the washracks. The only time Sideswipe and Mila left the room was for lunch.

Soon enough there was a knock on the twins' door. Sideswipe yelped, turning off the TV and kicking it back into the closet. As he moved frantically, erasing all traces of the secret, Mila was reminded of a teenager trying to clean their room in less than a minute.

Sideswipe composed himself and opened the door. Prowl stood there, looking less than amused. "Mila, it's time for dinner."

"Oh," Mila actually looked a bit disappointed. Sideswipe and Prowl saw that as a very good sign, but didn't say anything. "Thanks, Sideswipe."

"Hey, no problem! Come back anytime!"

Mila nodded with a small smile and followed Prowl out of the room. She personally wasn't sure what to to make of the fact that she had just gained a new friend. But, while she was still unsure, she wasn't exactly regretting her choice, either.


	13. A Vicious Cycle

Warning: Violence. I don't think it really needs a warning, but just in case.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: A Vicious Cycle<strong>

A week had gone by since the Decepticon attack. Life had returned to normal on the _Ark_, for all but Mila.

Her nightmares were still going strong. Each night she added up to the mental tally of how many hours of sleep she had lost. Dark circles began to show under her eyes, but whenever anyone would ask if she was okay, she would lie and say she was fine.

One fateful night, however, Mila had her worst nightmare yet.

* * *

><p><em>Mila was standing in the main room, talking and laughing with the Autobots. A heavy sense of trust and compassion hung in the air.<em>

"_You're a ray of hope, Mila," Optimus informed her._

"_We all love you," Prowl added._

_Mila blushed, but before she could respond the world around her swirled into a vortex of iridescent colors. For a split second she thought she saw her mother, but before Mila could be sure the vortex stopped and a new scene was in place._

_A battlefield._

_Mila watched with growing horror as the Autobots and Decepticons clashed head to head. She listened as the two armies spat vulgar insults at each other._

_Prowl was the first to fall. Ratchet fell soon after; Hot Rod, Jazz, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Ironhide, Mirage, Hound and Wheeljack following not long after._

_The only one left standing was Optimus. "See you on the other side," Megatron sneered as he fired point blank at Optimus' chest. Mila screamed as Optimus fell and faded to gray. "Decepticons, retreat!" Megatron shouted._

_Mila collapsed in sobs, ignoring the Decepticons in favor of looking at her fallen family. They had all faded to gray and black, a color that suited the horrendous occasion. Mila turned her head to the side and screamed again._

_Spike, Sparkplug and Carly were in a heap of broken limbs, laying in pools of their own blood. Their eyes were dull, lifeless. Spike still had Carly's hand in his, which just tore Mila's heart to shreds._

"_Mila..." it was nothing more than a whisper on the wind, yet it was haunting._

"_W-who's there?" Mila gasped out, not bothering to hide her fear or her tears._

"_It is I," the voice said. A woman in a long and flowing white gown stepped out from behind Optimus' form._

"_M-mother?"_

"_Yes," the woman agreed. "Mila, it is your fault that they are dead."_

"_No, that – that can't be true!"_

"_It is. They hate you now."_

_Mila began crying harder. Everyone she loved – dead and despising her! It was just too much. "Make it stop!" she cried out. "MAKE IT STOP!"_

* * *

><p>Mila shot up in bed. She buried her face in her hands and began to sob. When she finally ran out of tears, Mila was hit was a terribly strong urge for comfort. She wanted to see someone alive – anyone! So with a shaky breath, Mila stood up and slipped on her shoes.<p>

She exited her room, looking for an entrance to someone else's room. She finally found one door open and slipped inside. Being small had it's advantages, she noted offhandedly.

She easily found the berth and it only took her a minute to figure out who was on it. Prowl. He was deep in recharge, and most likely wouldn't wake up even if she climbed on him.

Should she test that theory? Should she climb into bed/berth with Prowl, like a child to it's parent? Did she trust him enough?

Yes. Yes, she did. Prowl was always killed first in her nightmares for a reason; Mila had come to love him like family and trust him, against her will. Ratchet as well, as he was killed almost at the same time as Prowl.

So Mila decided to test the theory. Recharge berth's, unlike what one might think, aren't elevated off the ground. It's more like an air mattress, except made of metal and mesh materials. So Mila hoisted herself up with only slight difficulty.

She made her way over to Prowl. She placed a hand on his arm gently, the warmth of his metal soothing. Mila managed to climb onto Prowl's chest without waking him. She laid down and curled up, almost like a cat. The warmth of Prowl's body worked to soothe her into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p>When the morning came, Prowl was the first one up. He always set his chronometer to wake him up at sunrise, it was just how he operated. But before he could sit up, his scanners registered something on his chest.<p>

Prowl lifted his head and looked down. What – or more precisely, who – he saw made his spark skip a pulse. Mila was asleep on his chest, looking peaceful. If Prowl was going to be honest, he felt shocked and... happy.

Prowl, who had noticed Mila's dark circles, decided to let her sleep. What was an hour, anyway?

An hour passed in silence, only broken by Mila's breathing and Prowl's systems humming. When six o'clock rolled around, Prowl regrettably had to wake Mila.

He gently prodded her with a finger. "Mila, wake up," he said in a tone somewhere between a whisper and normal volume.

Mila shifted as she came back to consciousness. She looked confused for a minute, before she remembered where she was and what had happened last night. She quickly shoved the nightmare into the back of her mind.

Mila finally gathered enough courage to make eye contact with Prowl. "I'm sorry, I just had such a horrible dream," she blurted.

Prowl was a bit surprised by her outburst, but quickly got over it. "It's alright, Mila. I'm not mad," he said simply.

"You're not?"

Prowl shook his head. "Of course not. I was surprised, but not mad."

"Oh," Mila said with relief. She hated it when people she cared about got angry with her.

"Do you want to talk about the nightmare?" Prowl offered.

Mila looked flabbergasted. She hadn't expected the offer, that was for sure, but she also couldn't just let it pass... could she? No, she couldn't. "You, Ratchet, Optimus and everyone were killed by the Decepticons. Then my mother told me that you all hated me and it was all my fault..."

Prowl felt his spark go out to the girl. He had honestly expected her to have nightmares, but to think that it would be her fault? "Mila, listen to me. If that were to ever happen – which it wont – it wouldn't be your fault; it would be the Decepticon's fault. But it won't happen, I promise you that."

Mila was silent for a while as she mulled the over. She didn't feel one hundred percent better, but she did feel at least a little better. And maybe the nightmares would get less gruesome and become less frequent.

"Thanks," Mila said softly.

Prowl smiled. "Any time. Now, it's time to start the day."

When Mila groaned in response and rolled over, Prowl simply couldn't hold back a chuckle.

* * *

><p><span>Note:<span> I totally made up the recharge berth thing, it worked though.  
><span>Thanks:<span> Thank you to Lunar Mist, who suggested something like this in a review (no, I didn't forget after all this time!).


	14. I Scream, You Scream

**Chapter Fourteen: I Scream, You Scream**

Mila sat in her room, bored as bored could be. It was hot out – nearly ninety degrees – and everyone was holed up in their rooms or offices. So that left her with nearly nothing to do.

_'Maybe someone will be out of their room,'_ Mila thought as she stood up from her bed.

She made her way into the hallway, grimacing at the heat that assaulted her. Didn't the blasted ship have air conditioning? Or any way to regulate temperature? Apparently not, Mila realized.

Mila made her way to the main room only to find it empty save for one mech. Hot Rod, Mila recalled his name to be. She hadn't talked to him in a while, maybe he'd be willing to keep her company? It was worth a shot, Mila decided.

She walked over to Hot Rod, who didn't notice her approach. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Mila cleared her throat. "Uh, hi," she greeted.

Hot Rod looked nothing short of stupefied, yet that shock soon morphed into a friendly smile. "Hi Mila, how are you?"

"Hot." was her flat reply.

Hot Rod laughed. "You and me both! Although it's a new thing – usually the ship has temperature control."

"Then why isn't it on?"

Hot Rod shrugged. "Beats me. I think Perceptor might know, though."

Mila frowned, "Who?"

"You've never met Perceptor?" Hot Rod gawped. Mila shook her head 'no'. "Then let's go meet him... and ask what's up with the temperature!"

"Alright," Mila agreed as she stepped into Hot Rod's offered hand.

Hot Rod walked through a few hallways and passed a multitude of doors until he found the right one. It was the same as all the other doors – salmon – and had no words to give a hint as to what lay behind it. Hot Rod didn't see the 'Do Not Disturb' sign, though, so he figured it was safe to go in.

He pressed the access panel and the door slid open with an audible _whoosh_. The first thing Mila saw was all the scientific equipment. Beakers, test tubes, chemicals, circuitry, the works. And in the middle of it all was a red microscope.

"Hey Perceptor," Hot Rod greeted. Mila looked around, yet she saw no one.

Then the microscope shifted into an Autobot. "Hello, Hot Rod." Mila noted that Perceptor's voice had a regal quality to it.

"It's been brought to my attention that you haven't met Mila!" Hot Rod then displayed the girl in his hand for Perceptor to see.

Mila was slightly annoyed by Hot Rod's antics and more than a little embarrassed. She didn't need to worry though, because Perceptor seemed positively _enthralled_ by her.

"Fascinating," he mumbled. "I have never met a human female other than Carly. Tell me, why do you look different than her?"

Mila was confused by the question. "Um... because she's older than me."

"Fascinating," Perceptor repeated.

"Uh, yeah," Hot Rod shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like Mila being treated as a science experiment. "I also wanted to know why the temperature control isn't on."

Perceptor looked at him like he was an idiot. "It's broken. I am attempting repairs now."

Hot Rod nodded. "Then we should let you get back to work, right Mila?"

"Uh... yeah."

Hot Rod waved, bouncing out of the room. Once the door was closed Mila looked up at him. "What just happened in there?" she frowned, hopelessly lost.

Hot Rod chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Perceptor confuses everybody. But not me, of course," he added hastily. Mila raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on the narcissistic comment.

Silence was threatening to overcome them, so Mila broke it with, "...It's still hot..."

"I could take you to get something cold, if you'd like," he offered.

Mila considered the offer. It was hot, and she hadn't had ice cream in who knows how long. "If it isn't too much trouble," she finally decided.

Hot Rod grinned. "Not at all!" he put her down and transformed, opening his passenger side door. Mila climbed in and the door closed behind her. Hot Rod gunned his engine and asked, "Where to?"

"Have you ever been to Carvel?"

* * *

><p>People stared in awe as the pristine sports car pulled to a stop outside a Carvel ice cream shop. Mila exited Hot Rod's vehicle form, uncomfortable with all the stares she immediately got.<p>

Hot Rod transformed, causing the people who had gotten too close to scramble back. "Make sure you don't get anything messy," he warned.

Mila nodded – she had kind of figured – and entered the store. She managed to block out most of the stares she was getting and ignore the whispers of gossip. She walked up to the counter, looking at the teenager on duty.

"What can I get for you?" he asked with a smile. His name tag read 'Sam'.

"Um..." Mila read the list of products. "A small cup of vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, please."

Sam nodded, getting her order. He placed it on the counter and typed it into the cash register. "Five forty, please."

Mila reached into her pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill, then the change. She was thankful that Ms. Green had always taught her to carry money, as she had forgotten to get some before they left.

"Thank you and have a nice day," Sam said as he took the money.

Mila picked up her ice cream and exited the store. Hot Rod was back in his alternate mode, and he opened his passenger door when he saw her coming. Mila got a few jealous glares as she climbed in, but she didn't let them bother her too much.

As they drove back, Mila ate the ice cream. When she finished the small cup, she had a startling revelation.

_She wasn't anorexic anymore._

If she was, she wouldn't have even _dreamt_ of eating something like ice cream. She was really changing for the better.

When Hot Rod and Mila got back to base, they were relieved to find that Perceptor had fixed the temperature control. Mila got out of Hot Rod's alternate form and he transformed.

"Ah," Hot Rod sighed contentedly.

Mila tossed out her trash in a human trash can, one of the many that Sparkplug had placed throughout the _Ark_.

"Where have you two been?" a voice demanded.

The two turned to see a very incensed Prowl. His arms were crossed and he had a disapproving look on his face.

"Um... we went for some ice cream," Mila answered.

Prowl's anger seemed to melt away. "Just tell someone next time, alright?"

Mila and Hot Rod nodded. Prowl turned and walked away, leaving Mila and Hot Rod to hang out together.

Prowl knew that Mila was on the right track, and that's why he didn't get mad. He was going to make sure Mila stayed on that track, no matter what.


	15. A Connoisseur of Finer Things

**Chapter Fifteen: A Connoisseur of Finer Things**

Mila was thankful that the previous day's heat wave was over, as was every other inhabitant of the _Ark_. She had woken up in a fairly good mood, once again finding out that she could do whatever she wished – within reason, of course.

But freedom only makes the decision harder.

Mila was heading for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's room to see if she could watch some TV. After all, Sideswipe seemed to like her.

Mila reached the twins' room, only to be faced with the problem of getting inside. She was simply too small to open the door. She also doubted that they would be able to hear her if she knocked. Maybe if she called through the door?

A noise from the other side of the door caught her attention before she could shout. _'What was that?'_ Mila frowned.

She leant towards the door curiously. There was shouting coming from inside, but the door muffled the sound too much for her to understand what was being said, or who was saying it. (A logical guess would be one of the twins, but Mila had learned not to assume anything with the Autobots.)

"Mila?" a voice broke her concentration.

Mila turned around sheepishly, looking up at Sideswipe. _'Wow, I must look like a jerk...'_ Mila rubbed the back of her head. "Um... there was shouting coming from inside..."

"Ah," Sideswipe nodded. "That would be Sunny."

There was a loud curse from inside the room, startling Mila. Sideswipe, however, simply looked resigned. Mila had a feeling that Sunstreaker had done something like this before.

"Let's go see who insulted him now," Sideswipe sighed as he opened the door.

What the two saw horrified Mila and annoyed Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker and Mirage were mid-fight. Sunstreaker had Mirage's arm twisted behind his back in a vice grip. It was easy to tell that Sunstreaker was winning this particular fight; Sunstreaker had only a few dents and scratches while Mirage had a few on every part of his frame.

"Alright, enough!" Sideswipe pushed the two apart and then grabbed his twin by the shoulders. Once he was sure neither would attack he let go of Sunstreaker. Turning a glare at the two mechs he demanded, "What happened now?"

"This fool thinks he knows art!" Sunstreaker snarled.

Mirage sniffed haughtily. "As a former noble mech, I must say that I do."

_'They had noblemen on Cybertron?'_ Mila wondered.

"I was an artist! I know a lot more than you!" Sunstreaker crossed his arms and glared. He looked a bit like he was pouting, which caused him to look a bit like a child who didn't get his own way.

"Yes, Sunstreaker, I know that you were an artist," Mirage said airily. "As a matter of fact, I think that _everyone_ knows that you were an artist."

"So why do you insist that you know more than me?"

"Because I _do_."

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed. "You fr-"

"Alright enough!" Sideswipe burst out, effectively cutting off Sunstreaker's insult. "Obviously this thing won't be solved until one of you is proved right."

"Duh," Sunstreaker hissed. He was ignored.

"What we need is an outside opinion to tell you that I'm right," Mirage said.

"Hm, that's not a bad idea," Sideswipe mused. "Mila!"

Mila was startled by the sudden call of her name. She then felt a bit of panic tighten around her heart. She didn't know much – if anything – about art. She also hated conflict; but what she hated more was being the middle person.

Mila was never good at choosing sides. She's had to do so in previous foster homes, and it always ended in disaster. But still... how could she let them down?

"Um... could I maybe have a sample of each art?" Mila asked tentatively.

Mirage nodded. He figured that the human, who had no bias, would answer honestly. He reached into his subspace pocket and pulled out a painting of what had to be a Cybertronian landscape.

Sunstreaker, not wanting to be outdone by Mirage, reached into his own subspace pocket and pulled out a sculpture of what looked to be a Cybertronian.

Mila studied each for a while. If she was to be honest, they were both beautiful in their own way. She couldn't choose, and even if she did, one of the would be insulted.

"Honestly they're both beautiful in their own ways," Mila shrugged. "Can't you just... let each other like different art?"

"That's what I've been saying for vorns!" Sideswipe exclaimed.

Sunstreaker and Mirage shared a glare. "No," the said in unison.

"But why does one branch of art have to be better than another? Isn't it all art in the end?"

"I fail to see the point in this," Sunstreaker frowned.

"Let her finish!" his twin glared.

Mila was once again struck by how human they could seem at times, but she brushed it off. "Art is made to express yourself, right? And for others to enjoy?"

Sunstreaker and Mirage nodded. Sunstreaker had a nostalgic look in his optics. He was most likely remembering when he used to be an artist before the war.

"If that's what art is, and it's all art in the end, how could one type possibly be better than another?"

All three mechs in the room understood then. And, if they were to be honest, Mila had a good point. There is no 'bad art', just different perspective.

"Hmph, I get it. I guess you have a point," Sunstreaker agreed – but not without a grudging quality to his tone.

"Yes, you do," Mirage agreed. He turned to Sunstreaker. "This fight never happened?"

Mirage stuck out his hand, and after a minute Sunstreaker grasped it with his. "Deal."

The two left the room, leaving Sideswipe and Mila in their wake. Mila was glad that she had helped. She didn't know where that speech had come from. Maybe Optimus was starting to rub off on her.

"You were awesome."

Mila smiled up at Sideswipe. "Thanks."

"You know, I think you just made them warm up to you."

Mila was startled. "Really?"

"Definitely," Sideswipe grinned. "So, wanna watch some TV?"

Mila laughed and nodded. In all the excitement, she had all but forgotten her original reason for coming to the twins' room. It was worth it, though.

* * *

><p><span>Note:<span> I have a fic recommendation for you all! It's by a friend (I can call you a friend, right?) of mine. (the site address) /s/7409054/1/My_Life_Begins_Today

On another note, I have the rest of the story written. Be expecting daily updates from now on.


	16. Scientific Reservoir

**Chapter Sixteen: Scientific Reservoir**

Wheeljack's ear finials flashed a dull blue as he examined the small piece of equipment in his hand. He turned to look at his latest invention, then back at the piece.

He finally figured out where it would go. He silently prayed to Primus that this invention wouldn't explode as he inserted it.

Perceptor watched from the other side of the room, biting his lip as Wheeljack wired in the last piece. Usually this was when it all went wrong, and the current invention exploded, usually dismembering Wheeljack (or anyone around him) in the process.

"C'mon..." Wheeljack whispered as he connected the last wire.

He and Perceptor waited, not daring to breathe. With each passing second Perceptor grew more and more wary, while Wheeljack grew more and more excited at the prospect of the invention working.

Wheeljack's optimism would kill him one day, Perceptor figured.

Finally, after five minutes of a distinct lack of explosion, a decision was made. "It's alright," Wheeljack said with his ear finials glowing brightly. "It's perfectly-"

Wheeljack had placed his palm on top of the invention, which caused it to explode in a violent flash of light. When the smoke cleared Wheeljack was still standing there, with a distinct lack of an arm.

"-Safe..."

Perceptor sighed, running a hand over his face wearily. He knew that this was going to happen. But the one thing that always unnerved him, no matter how many times he saw it, was Wheeljack's lack of reaction whenever he got dismembered. It was like he wasn't in pain...

_/Perceptor to Ratchet.../_

_/Ratchet here. What is it?/_ the medic answered grumpily.

_/Wheeljack lost another arm.../_

There was a sigh from Ratchet's end. _/I swear I'm going to stop fixing him.../_

Ratchet terminated the comm link, causing Perceptor to smile slightly. It was an empty threat and both he and Ratchet knew it; even if Wheeljack wasn't the medic's best friend, Ratchet never let anyone stay injured. Not even a Decepticon.

It didn't take long for Ratchet to stomp in, the door flying open as Ratchet vented his annoyance on it. His expression was mainly annoyance, but his optics showed mostly masked concern.

Ratchet and Wheeljack stared at each other for a minute. "Again...?" Ratchet finally sighed.

Wheeljack rubbed the back of his head with his remaining arm. "Heh-heh..."

The sound of human footsteps drew all of their attention to the door. Mila jogged to the opening, a frown on her face. Prowl was close behind her.

"What was that noise?" Mila asked. The Autobots in the room could detect her nervousness, but she was doing her best to push it aside. She wanted to get to trust them like she trusted Prowl and Ratchet.

Wheeljack decided to answer her. "Um... my invention blew up," he said. His ear finials flashed dully, signaling his embarrassment.

It was then that Mila seemed to notice his missing arm. At her look of panic, Ratchet quickly did some damage control. "He's fine, we can replace our parts without any pain."

Wheeljack nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh," Mila looked relieved. She also looked a bit confused, but the Autobots chose not to comment on that.

Prowl took the opportunity to give all the Autobots in the room a flat look. They all shifted, save for Ratchet.

"I will be expecting a damage report once you are repaired."

Wheeljack nodded, "Of course, Prowl."

Ratchet, deciding that he wasn't going to wait any longer, grabbed Wheeljack's remaining arm. Everyone stepped out of the way as the irate medic dragged Wheeljack out of the room and to his medbay.

Mila stared after them with wide eyes.

* * *

><p>Wheeljack rolled his new arm around, trying to get rid of some of the stiffness. Ratchet had threatened him with multiple torture techniques if he blew himself up again. But science can't be stunted by a few minor injuries, so Wheeljack had just smiled and pretended to listen to the threats.<p>

"Alright, you're free to go."

Wheeljack nodded and stood up from the medical berth. "Thanks, Ratch'!" he said as he left the medbay.

Ratchet glowered after him for a minute before turning back to his work. He was going to end up fixing the engineer again before the end of the week, he just knew it.

Wheeljack headed straight for his lab. But when he got there he was surprised to see Mila standing outside. She looked awkward and hesitant, so he decided to simply be friendly.

"Hi, Mila!"

Mila looked up at Wheeljack, a small and somewhat forced smile appearing on her face. "Hi, Wheeljack."

Wheeljack pushed open the door to his lab. He looked down at Mila with a friendly look and asked, "Would you like to come in?"

Mila hesitated but nodded. She followed the much larger engineer inside, but ended up standing in the middle of the room awkwardly.

"Hello, Mila," a voice greeted. Mila started and turned her head to face the speaker. Perceptor have her a friendly smile.

Wheeljack looked startled. He had had no clue that Perceptor was still in here.

"I looked at your invention, Wheeljack, and I think I know what's wrong." Perceptor walked over to the invention, pointing at a cluster of wires. "See that wire? It's snapped, and too small for our hands."

Mila shifted from foot to foot. "Um... maybe I could try and fix it?"

The two Autobots shared a glance. It wasn't a bad idea. It wasn't dangerous, so they didn't see any reason not to let her try.

"Alright," Wheeljack's ear finials glowed cheerfully. "We'll walk you through it, okay?"

Mila nodded, swallowing. She allowed herself to be lifted onto the table. Cautiously, she approached the invention (she _still_ had no clue of what it actually was. It looked kind of like a big vacuum.) and looked back at the two expectantly.

Wheeljack and Perceptor took turns giving her step by step instructions on how to tie the two ends together. Once she finished Mila stepped back and allowed them to examine it. "It should work," Perceptor concluded.

Wheeljack looked at the girl. "Mila, you should probably back up just in case."

Mila nodded and allowed Perceptor to carry her and hold her out of the blast range. Wheeljack took a deep breath and flicked the switch. The machine rumbled before a steady purr replaced it. Wheeljack whooped in victory.

Mila and Perceptor looked at the working invention. "So what does it do?" Mila asked.

"It should be able to suck up some of the rocks inside and around the _Ark_," Wheeljack said proudly.

Mila smiled back._ 'So, in other words, a super strong vacuum...' _she thought to herself.

Wheeljack, oblivious to her dry thought, cheerfully left the lab to go spread the word of his success. Perceptor and Mila watched him go, each feeling varying levels of amusement.


	17. Dog House

**Chapter Seventeen: Dog House**

Mila wandered the halls with no destination in mind. She wasn't bored, per say, just in the mood to be a bit daring.

She was warming up to the Autobots well, and had simply stopped trying to fight it; it was a pointless effort. That didn't mean she was completely comfortable with them all yet. But most of them seemed to be good guys – even the ones who have an attitude problem.

Mila turned a corner, only to stop in confusion. She wasn't exactly sure what she was seeing. It looked like Spike, Bumblebee and Cliffjumper were attempting to build something. It didn't seem to be going well, though.

Mila summoned up her courage and walked over. "What are you doing?" she asked in an almost meek manner.

All three turned to look at her. Spike gave her a friendly smile as did Bumblebee. Cliffjumper didn't smile – Mila had never seen him smile, actually – but he didn't look like he hated her being there.

"Well, my dad got me this puppy," Spike started his explanation. "And we have nowhere to put it. So I have to build a dog house. But it's not really going very well..."

Mila could see that. It looked almost like a Popsicle stick fence, only with more randomly placed nails. Apparently, while Spike was good with mechanics, he was terrible at construction.

Sparkplug was great with construction, though. "Why isn't your dad helping?" Mila asked.

Spike laughed, although it was more on the bitter side. "He wants me to take this as a learning experience..." his sour look brightened as he continued, "But he never said I couldn't have the Autobots help!"

Unfortunately, it looked like the Autobots were worse at construction than Spike. There were quite a few snapped or otherwise mangled pieces of wood in a pile off to the side, the obvious result of too much force.

"I wish I could help you, but I don't know how to," Mila said regretfully.

Spike latched onto the prospect of help. "It's alright. If you want to, you can pass us the material."

Mila thought it over for a minute. Spike was obviously in a bind, and she had nothing better to do anyway. Plus she should probably get to know them, as she had barely spent any time with them.

"On one condition," Mila offered.

"Name it."

With a genuine smile Mila said, "I get to see the puppy."

Spike laughed and nodded, "Deal."

With that Mila headed over to where the non-damaged supplies were. She did her job well, handing them what they needed. Of course, there were a few instances where she handed them the wrong thing, but Spike just laughed it off.

Time passed relatively quickly as they built. They were barely aware of it until Cliffjumper broke the last piece of wood.

"Uh-oh, looks like we're all out," Spike observed. The dog house was only half finished – it had only a floor and one wall.

"Can we get more?" Mila asked.

Spike nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, my dad should have some at home."

"Well I'll drive you," Bumblebee offered with a grin. He transformed and gunned his engine.

Spike eagerly climbed into Bumblebee's driver seat. Mila hesitated, though. "Shouldn't we tell someone we're leaving?" she asked, thinking back to how angry Prowl had been when she went with Hot Rod without telling anyone.

"I'll comm. Prowl on the way," Bumblebee offered.

Mila nodded and climbed into the passenger seat. Bumblebee closed his doors and shot off, nearly creating skid marks.

* * *

><p>Sparkplug looked amused as Spike and Mila climbed out of Bumblebee. "So you got some help, did you Spike?" he called to his son.<p>

Spike laughed. "You bet I did! We need some more wood, though. Autobots aren't very delicate..."

Sparkplug let out a booming laugh. He motioned to a nearby pile of wood with a large grin. Somehow, he had known that Spike would be needing it.

Mila offered to help but Spike refused. So she was left to watch him load Bumblebee with as much wood as he could. "Ow, that hurts!" Bumblebee exclaimed.

"Sorry," Mila pat his hood.

"Aw, it's fine..."

Spike chuckled and closed the trunk. "Do you want to stop and get lunch?" he asked Mila.

She thought about the offer. "If you want to," she agreed, not wanting to make the ultimate decision.

Spike nodded with a smile. "Sure, I could use a bite." He climbed into Bumblebee and Mila followed suit. "Where do you want to go?"

Mila shrugged her shoulders. "Wherever. I'm not very picky..."

And it was true. After being anorexic for so long, she relished any type of food.

Spike laughed and said, "Neither am I. How about McDonald's?"

"Alright," Mila agreed.

"You heard the lady, Bumblebee," Spike grinned. Bumblebee gunned his engine and sped towards the nearest McDonald's.

* * *

><p>Lunch was eaten quickly, and soon they found themselves back at the half constructed dog house.<p>

With a heavy sigh Spike took up his post. Cliffjumper reluctantly came back to help and the four started the grueling process all over again.

"I think it's done," Spike announced some time later.

The house didn't look like something you would buy in a store, but it looked like it would stand. It needed a painting as well, but Spike wasn't very worried about that. He was sure Carly would love to do it – she was into stuff like that.

"We did a good job," Bumblebee smiled, ever the optimist.

Mila was, surprisingly, the one who laughed and said, "Well, it will do."

Spike joined in the laughter. He liked seeing the younger girl open up. She was a good person, and could be fun to hang around when she wasn't being silent. Truth be told when he first met her he thought she was sort of weird... but he soon learned that wasn't the case.

Bumblebee had a similar feeling. He liked Mila; she wasn't like many other children her age. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not in the long run, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. Bumblebee liked to remain on the bright side of everything, after all.

Cliffjumper thought she was alright, for a human. They were unpredictable and often annoying creatures, but this one had proven herself tolerable. He also thought that she was not quite trustworthy, but steadily working her way to that position.

Mila had had a good day, in the fun sense and in the sense that she had just made three new friends. Four, if you counted the puppy Spike was going to show her later.


	18. Nature

**Chapter Eighteen: Nature**

Jazz and Hound walked through the hallways of the _Ark_, talking and laughing like the old friends they are. They were both off-duty, leaving them with nothing to do but hang out.

They were walking past the recharge quarters when a door opened and Mila walked out. She had her back to them, so Jazz decided to call out her name.

Mila turned around and made a face, obviously trying to remember both their names. "Hi... Jazz and..."

"Hound," the green mech offered.

"Hound. Right, sorry."

Hound waved a hand in dismissal. He never spent much time with her, so it was only logical that she wouldn't remember his name. Jazz, well, he just left an impression on people.

"So what're ya up ta?" Jazz asked brightly.

Mila shrugged her shoulders awkwardly. She wasn't really up to anything, as the _Ark_ was not designed for human recreation.

Jazz and Hound shared a quick glance. "We were about to go on a nature walk, would you like to come with us? " Hound offered.

Mila considered it. She had never really spent time with Hound; and from the time she'd spent with Jazz, she concluded that the saboteur was a fun and lively person to hang around. Plus he always seemed to know the newest and most popular songs.

"Um... alright," Mila accepted.

It would no doubt be awkward, but she was getting used to it by now. And in some cases it was even becoming less awkward.

Jazz beamed. "Let's get goin' then!"

He started walking off with his usual bounce. Hound shook his head and followed, leaving Mila to sprint and catch up with them. Sometimes she really hated how much shorter she was than them.

They passed Prowl on their way out, who gave them all a long, calculating look before continuing on his way. He either trusted them or he just couldn't be bothered with questions. Or quite possibly a healthy mixture of both.

Mila followed the two Autobots out of the _Ark_. It was a perfect day for a nature walk, she realized. It was warm with a nice breeze and a few clouds to block the sun somewhat. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Hound smiled.

"Yeah," Mila agreed. And it was. Nature was unique in every way. The smells, the sensations, there just wasn't anything else like it.

Mila had always loved nature. It was something stable in her unstable life. It had a calming aura itself, which is something that many people take for granted. People seemed to take nature itself for granted, really. Some even saw it as little more than a profit.

The trio leisurely made their way around Mount St. Hilary, taking in everything there was to see. Most of it was admittedly rock, sand and dust, and yet even that had it's own beauty. Sort of like an unpainted canvas.

"It's pretty quiet," Jazz broke the serene silence.

He was right about that. There were barely any animals around the barren landscape, so the only real sound was the one that the Autobots and Mila made when they walked.

"Jazz, it's nature," Hound sighed. "It's a desert. There's nothing else living here. Of course it's quiet."

Jazz raised his hands in surrender. "I was just sayin'..."

Mila smiled, though neither Autobot were looking at her to notice. She was having a good time, not that she would voice it. Jazz and Hound each had an easy going air around them that made you want to spend time with them, whether it be doing something or doing nothing.

Their banter was extremely amusing as well. Mila secretly hoped that one day she would have a friend to talk like that with, to playfully banter without hurt, awkwardness or embarrassment. She wasn't counting on it happening anytime soon, though.

They walked until sunset. Mila was nearly asleep on her feet by that point. At some point Jazz had started playing some soft music, and it just added to her fatigue.

Jazz glanced down at Mila and instantly knew she was mostly asleep. _/Hey, Hound. I thin' it's time ta go back./_

Hound followed Jazz's gaze and nodded his agreement. The green mech reached down, intent on waking Mila up. Instead, he ended up catching her as she finally fell asleep. With an amused look at Jazz he carried her inside.

Prowl met up with them halfway to Mila's room. At the tactician's concerned look, Jazz explained that she had fallen asleep.

Prowl nodded. "I'll take her to her room. Then I want to talk to you both," he said as he gently took hold of the human girl.

Jazz and Hound trudged to Prowl's office as the mech himself put Mila to bed. He soon met them at his office. Prowl took a seat behind his desk and Jazz plopped into another chair with ease. Hound opted to stand in a slightly stiff position.

"Mila spent a lot of time with you two today," Prowl said straightforwardly. "I want to know what you've observed."

Jazz and Hound shared a look. "She seems to be coping. She was very silent, but I'm beginning to wonder if that itself will ever change," Hound relayed.

Jazz took the opportunity to add his two cents. "But other then that she seems ta be happy. Sometimes it's kinda hard ta tell, though."

Prowl nodded slowly. Mila had passed quite a few major milestones recently, and she seemed to want to open up to them. In his own opinion she just wasn't sure how to do so. He would also bet ten cubes of high grade energon on the fact that she had been betrayed or hurt many times in her short life, causing her to not trust very easily.

But the fact that she was trying, and in some cases even becoming attached was a very good thing. A step in the right direction, as the humans said. Prowl himself had become very fond of the girl, as everyone on the _Ark_ could see. He acted a lot like a father around her, and whether that was a good thing or not only Mila could decide.

"I see. You're both dismissed," Prowl said. Jazz and Hound nodded and made their way out of his office.

Prowl sighed and leant back in his office chair. He had high hopes that everything would work out and that Mila would grow to trust them, and maybe even love them. Prowl himself was already well on the track of really seeing her as adopted kin, as well as half the _Ark_, Optimus Prime himself included.

Whether she knew it or not, Mila had a caring support system. Prowl just hoped that she would come to realize it and embrace it.


	19. The Party Ambulance

**Chapter Nineteen: The Party Ambulance**

Mila's heart skipped a beat as he stifled a scream. She scrambled backwards, out of the path of the approaching cars – excluding the one that had just nearly run her over.

"You blasted twins!" Ratchet shouted. It was a bit odd to hear his voice come from his alternate mode, but Mila barely noticed.

The girl was too busy staring at Ratchet as he zoomed by. On his side were the large, black painted words "All aboard the party ambulance!"

"Catch us if you can!" Sideswipe cackled.

The twins turned the corner with Ratchet following. Mila stared after them, hopelessly lost and more then a bit weirded out. Her heart had returned to it's normal rate after her near death experience as had her breathing, yet she was still in shock.

"What just happened...?" she wondered aloud.

"You just experienced your first prank, courtesy of the twins," Prowl sighed.

Mila shook her head to clear it. She decided that she would go and see Ratchet later to get some answers. Hopefully he wouldn't get too angry with her for prying.

* * *

><p>Ratchet was still annoyed when Mila went to see him. The medic had been standing in front of a mirror, looking at the bits of words that covered his form. The words must have been broken up when he transformed, Mila realized.<p>

She cleared her throat awkwardly, not entirely sure how to proceed with her questioning. "Um, Ratchet?" she asked.

The medic looked down at her with no readable expression. He didn't seem angry with her, at least. It was a good start.

Mila stood silently, trying to find a way to word what she wanted to say. "What happened out there?" she finally just blurted, a blush instantly coloring her cheeks.

Ratchet looked down at her in amusement, obviously finding her embarrassment amusing. Of course, he tended to find anyone's embarrassment amusing. Mila occasionally wondered if he was (not so) secretly sadistic.

"Sunstreaker and Sideswipe pulled another one of their infamous pranks at my expense. I, of course, had to chase them to deal out punishment. I do apologize for almost running you down, though."

Mila wasn't quite sure how to respond, so she stuck with a smile and a lame, "It's fine."

She had known that the twin's loved to prank – they certainly talked about it enough. She had just never been witness to one before. She had to admit that the prank wasn't very impressive, but she also knew that she shouldn't judge their skills just on one prank.

"Are their pranks always this..." Mila struggled to find the right word.

"Mediocre?" Ratchet supplied.

Mila shrugged one shoulder and nodded.

"Not all the time, no, but sometimes." Ratchet's look darkened, "I think that they like to mess with us, give us a false sense of security. Then they bring out the big guns, the prank that everyone remembers."

Mila could understand the logic in that. If the twins actually did do that, then it would make any large prank more affective than it would be if they were expecting it. She just wasn't sure if the twins actually thought that deeply into things – Sunstreaker, maybe, but not Sideswipe.

"Oh," for all her thinking was all she said. That ended the conversation, leaving an awkward atmosphere to fill the medbay.

Ratchet had gone back to what he was doing before, examining the damage done to his paint job. Mila searched her brain for something to say to break the silence. She didn't really want to leave the medbay. She liked Ratchet and wanted to spend more time with him.

Ratchet grumbled something in Cybertronian, scrunching up his nasal plating at the words. Mila was hit with a sudden inspiration.

"Maybe, if you'd like, I could help you wash that off."

Ratchet stopped what he was doing and looked down at her in surprise. "I think I may just take you up on that offer," he smiled.

Mila smiled back.

* * *

><p>Mila and Ratchet made their way outside. The former was holding a bucket of soapy water and a sponge. It was a partly cloudy day and just the right temperature. Ratchet transformed and Mila re-read the words.<p>

"What does it even mean?" she wondered aloud, not expecting an actual answer.

Ratchet didn't know that, however. "It's a stupid title that the twins graced me with. I used to party a lot before the war, and now I'm an ambulance, hence 'party ambulance'."

Mila had begun to wash the words away. "So you knew the twins before the war?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We weren't friends, per say, but we knew each other's names and occupations."

Mila was floored. She had never given it thought that the Autobots may have known each other before they joined up under the same faction. She had also never given it a lot of thought that they had different jobs – different lives, even – before the war.

"What did they do before the war?" she found herself asking.

Ratchet hummed. "Sunstreaker was an aspiring artist and Sideswipe did whatever minimum wage job that he could get."

It was startling for Mila to realize how similar to Earth Cybertron was. She had been starting to realize that the Autobots acted more human then some cared to admit, but for the whole planet to be like a metallic Earth was shocking.

The rest of the time passed in silence with Mila thinking and Ratchet content to not say anything. Mila worked surprisingly well for someone of her size, and in an hour or so Ratchet's side was back to the way it should be.

Ratchet transformed and smiled down at Mila. "Thank you," he said, the words sounding a bit awkward.

Mila couldn't stop the quirk of her mouth. "You're welcome."

They held each other's gazes for a minute before Ratchet headed inside. He stopped halfway and looked over his shoulder. "If you wish, you're welcome in my medbay any time," he said.

"Thank you," Mila said with a smile.

Ratchet nodded and headed inside. Mila sat down on the ground and tilted her head back to look at the sky. She could tell that she was warming up to the Autobots and the Autobots to her. Ratchet almost never extended invitations to his medbay, so it was an honor and a privilege.

Mila couldn't stop the hope that bubbled in her chest. Maybe things would work out.

She just hoped that she didn't jinx herself.


	20. Letting Go

**Chapter Twenty: Letting Go**

_A five-year-old Mila laughed as her mother picked her up and spun her around. Their matching brown hair flew out behind them with the momentum. Mila's mother placed her down on the ground with a smile that Mila mirrored._

"_Mommy, can we play hide and seek?" Mila asked eagerly. It was her favorite game._

_Her mother laughed. "Of course, dear."_

_Mila clapped her hands happily. "I hide!" she said. She liked hiding, though her mother wasn't sure why. She was rather good at it, too._

_Her mother closed her eyes and began counting to fifty. Mila scampered off, fighting giggles all the way._

_She entered the laundry room and looked around. There were no spots to hide in there, so she ran into the living room. There were no spots in there, either. She heard her mother's voice pick up at thirty seconds, and gasped. She darted into the kitchen and smiled. She opened the pantry door and slipped inside, closing it almost all the way._

"_Fifty! Ready or not, here I come!"_

_Mila covered her mouth to smother a giggle. She peered through the slits in the door, waiting for her mother to come into the kitchen._

_Time passed, though Mila wasn't sure how much. She was beginning to become restless and cramped; she really wanted to get out of the small pantry. But that would mean that she would loose! It was a tough decision._

_Mila was about to leave the pantry when she heard a window shatter. She paused, her hand just in front of the door. She held her breath and listened. She heard a muffled shout and a sound that would haunt her for the rest of her life: the firing of a gun._

_Mila whimpered and curled up, deathly afraid. She didn't like the frightening noises coming from the living room. She wanted them to stop! She wanted her mom!_

_She heard crashing and things being overturned with the accompanying male voice every now and again. Mila held her breath when she heard footsteps come into the kitchen. She heard him make a ruckus before tromping out. She let out her breath in a whoosh._

_Time passed, though she wasn't sure how much. Eventually she heard what sounded like police sirens. Usually she would get excited; it was her dream to be a police woman. Instead, she whimpered and hunkered down even more._

_She heard the door fly open and a curse. She heard what had to be the police run through the house, shouting 'clear!' every now and again. Mila began to whimper, afraid and confused and just wanting her mother._

"_Hey, I think I heard something," a voice said._

_Mila heard him walk towards the pantry. She began to cry from fear. The pantry door was opened, causing Mila to squeeze her eyes shut. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. I wanna help you," he said gently._

_Mila tentatively opened her eyes and looked over. He was undoubtedly a police officer, though he looked to be quite young, maybe twenty five or so. Mila searched his eyes for reassurance, finding something akin to it in their brown depths._

"_My name's Paul," he said with a smile._

_Mila sniffled. "M-my name's Mila."_

_Paul's smile didn't falter as he stood up. He offered his hand and Mila eyed it for a minute before taking it. He gently lifted her to her feet. "Now–"_

_Mila hadn't stuck around to listen to what he had to say, she had run off to find her mother. She had a terrible feeling... Mila skidded to a stop in the living room. Her mother was lying in a pool of her own blood, though the bullet hole was luckily concealed from the young child's view. Her mother's eyes looked like glass and her skin was so pale..._

_Mila screamed and bean to sob. She didn't even notice when Paul came and picked her up, gently shushing her as he removed her from the house. All Mila could think of was the image of her mother; the image that would haunt her for the rest of her life._

* * *

><p>Mila woke up to find that she was crying. She curled up on her side in a fetal position, the tears turning into heaving sobs. It wasn't often that she had a full memory dump, usually the nightmares about that day were just when she saw her mother for the last time. When it was reliving the entire day, it always broke her down.<p>

Mila realized that she needed to be near someone or she would never stop crying. She managed to quell her sobs and stood up, slipping on her shoes and clutching Amico to her chest tightly.

She wasn't quite sure how she ended up in front of Optimus' office, but she saw that the door was open a bit and the light was on. She took a tentative step inside, peering around until she located Optimus. He was at his desk, frowning as he read a datapad.

"O-Optimus?" she squeaked.

Optimus put the datapad down and looked at her. "Mila, what's wrong?" he asked concernedly.

"I-I had this nightmare where I remembered everything from the day my mom d-died," she said in a rambling manner. Obviously the dream had shaken her immensely – Optimus had never seen her like this, and he never wanted to again.

The leader lowered his hand and Mila climbed on with only a slight hesitation. Optimus could tell just how distressed she was by the way she was holding Amico. If the bear was alive, it would have been strangled to death by now.

Optimus brought her close to his spark chamber. Mila pressed against the warmth and cried. Optimus let her, knowing it was what she needed.

Optimus was no stranger to grief. He had lost many he cared about in this never-ending war, including his only love, Elita One. He had cried for each and every loss, and would cry for those to come.

Eventually Mila stopped crying. "I miss her so much," she sniffled.

Optimus felt his spark reach out to her. "You'll always miss her, Mila. But she's always with you, so long as you keep her in your heart."

"But it hurts so much..."

Optimus' gaze softened. He had never heard Mila admit to feeling pain or hurt before. "I've lost many in this war, Mila. I know exactly how you feel. What you need to do it cry. Let everything out, let your heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. Don't hold on, let it all go. And then your heart will begin to heal on it's own."

Mila stared up at Optimus in awe. She had never thought of it that way. She had always tried to hold on, thinking that if she let go she'd loose herself completely. But he was right, and she knew it. If she let go, she could finally begin healing.

"Thank you, Optimus," she said quietly.

Optimus smiled warmly behind his mask. Mila soon dropped into a deep sleep, still holding Amico just not as tightly.

Optimus stood up and made his way to Mila's room. He gently placed her on her bed and stepped back. "Goodnight, Mila," he whispered and left the room.

Unbeknownst to Optimus, Mila had a small smile on her face as she slept peacefully and better then she had in years.


	21. Epilogue: On the Inside

**Epilogue: On the Inside**

Mila pouted as she was carried in Sideswipe's hand. She didn't mind the being carried part, it was the fact that she had been blindfolded by Carly and couldn't see anything. Sideswipe also refused to tell her where he was taking her or what awaited them, which drove her absolutely crazy.

"Are we there yet?" Mila asked.

Sideswipe slowed to a stop and announced, "Now we're here!"

"Can I please take the blindfold off now?"

Sideswipe laughed and agreed. Mila eagerly tugged it off, almost poking herself in the eye in the process. When she finally got it off she saw all the Autobots, Spike, Carly, Sparkplug and even Kathy Green. "Surprise!" they all shouted.

Mila took in the room with a smile. A pink banner hung on the back wall reading '_Happy Birthday, Mila!_' in black letters. There was a table set up with human food and drinks in the corner and another much larger table in the other corner with energon cubes for the Autobots. White and blue balloons and crepe paper were hanging on the walls.

Mila wasn't sure what to say. She was overwhelmed by emotions, though for once none of them were bad. "Thank you," she finally managed to say.

"Let's get this party started!" Sideswipe cheered. A chorus of agreement rose up and music began to play.

Mila made her way over to the drinks and grabbed a cup of ginger ale. She sipped at it and surveyed the room. Everyone was there, though some of the more self-reserved Autobots were staying away from everyone else. The humans were laughing and dancing, perfectly content to have fun.

Carly came over with a smile. Her face was slightly flushed from dancing. "Come on Mila, let's dance!" she exclaimed, grabbing the girl's hand.

Mila allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, but didn't dance. She didn't know how, and she still wasn't comfortable enough to try. Carly seemed to realize this and simply let her be, for which Mila was thankful.

Kathy made her way over with a smile. "Hi, Mila," she greeted.

"Hi, Ms. Green," Mila smiled tentatively back.

"So do you like living with the Autobots?" the woman asked.

Mila thought about it. They were weird, dysfunctional, frightening and friendly. "Yeah, I do."

Kathy nodded thoughtfully. "Would you want to stay with them permanently if you could?"

Mila recognized the subtle asking of vital questions. Kathy was trying to figure out if this was going to be her new home; her new family. Did Mila want that?

She thought back over the past few months. When it had started, she was afraid and mistrustful. But the Autobots had been patient and kind with her, and she learnt to mostly trust them. There were still a few bumps to smooth out, but she was... well, she was happy.

"Yes." _I'm happy. I want to live with them._

Kathy sensed the unspoken words and smiled. She had asked the Autobots before hand, and they had all said they would like to have Mila stay. It was a perfect match. She hugged Mila tightly. "Then welcome to your new life."

* * *

><p>The party wore on well into the day. At around six thirty the humans began to clear out and the Autobots heading to their rooms for some rest. Mila was sitting by the back wall with a small smile on her face.<p>

Kathy walked over to her with a smile. She handed the girl her phone number. "If you ever want to talk or anything, you can call me," she said. The two shared a hug. "Congratulations Mila. And Happy Birthday."

Mila thanked her sincerely and Kathy left the _Ark_, satisfied that the young girl would have a happy life.

Carly, Spike and Sparkplug left soon with a hug and a 'Happy Birthday' each. Mila looked around the extremely messy room contentedly, if not tiredly.

Prowl walked up to her with an affectionate smile. "Come on, Mila, you should get some rest."

Mila nodded wordlessly. She stood up and followed the large black and white Autobot to her room. As she was about to go in, she paused. She craned her neck to look up at Prowl and said two words: "Thank you."

She meant for everything. He had been there for her through everything, and had even helped her get over her eating disorder. He meant a lot to her, and she could tell that she meant quite a bit to him as well.

"You're welcome," Prowl said with a gentle smile.

Mila smiled back and vanished into her room. She changed for bed and turned off the light, crawling under the covers and holding Amico to her chest tightly.

She was happy. She was safe. She was home.

* * *

><p><em>Still you on the inside (You can go and change and to me you'll always be the same)<br>__Still you on the inside (You can try and run and know you'll always be the same inside)  
><em>_Still love you on the inside.  
><em>_~On the Inside – Daughtry_

* * *

><p><span>Note:<span> It's finished. It's finally finished. My first finished chapter story! I want to thank those who reviewed and favorited. Also, a special thank you to CherryBlossom713 for allowing me to adopt this from you. I hope you enjoyed it~ I hope you _all_ enjoyed it.

Oh, and you should go listen to the song mentioned above. It's awesome.


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